


Beati Pacifici

by Penned



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Federation Intelligence, Military Science Fiction, Mystery, Original Character(s), Science Experiments, Spies & Secret Agents, character-driven, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 78,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penned/pseuds/Penned
Summary: An old friend turns up when Jim Kirk least expects it and pulls him and his crew into a world of spy games, betrayal, and the secretive Federation Intelligence agency. Character-driven and heavy on plot. Expect lots of pseudo (and real) science, original characters with baggage, and hand-wavy medical scenarios.Be forewarned: This has original characters and was written for pure, unadulterated enjoyment.  I wrote and posted this fic ten years ago and then let it go as my life changed. I decided to re-write and re-edit now as a side project. As it stands, the original is 25 chapters and more than 100k words so I'll be posting them as soon as I finish each one. I grew up on Star Trek reruns so I've always had a fondness for the world and the genre. Coming back to this feels like coming home.





	1. A Call for Help. A Familiar Face.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Like the summary says, ten years after I posted the first chapter (on FF.net, of all places), I stumbled upon this story and in a fit of nostalgia I decided to re-read the entire thing. I suddenly remembered how much fun I had while working on this. It was a time before life and work got in the way of the singular joy I used to feel writing for my enjoyment.  
So, although I know this won’t get read (because who wants an OC in fanfic?), I’m going to attempt to re-edit this story and post it here so all my past work lives in one place. It made me truly happy at one point. I would spend hours just researching medical terms and science experiments for FUN. I remember rushing to get home to open my laptop and work on something purely because I wanted to work on it - not because a professor or client was waiting for it.  
Leave a review or kudos if you want. I'm not looking for constructive crit (because I'm definitely not a writer), but I’d love to just interact with folks again in a different sort of community, without too much pressure.

The river at the bottom of the cliff had been a witness to many things- acts both cruel and kind. The creatures of this world had once worshipped it as a sacred thing, as a transporter of souls. In their language, they called it the gateway, the judger of all acts, the cleanser of sins. Water was impartial, all-knowing and all-consuming. It had been through wars and had observed acts of violence so great that the living would rather forget. The river had a memory as long as it was deep.

Tonight though, all seemed peaceful.

A creature shrieked in the distance. The wind rushed through the skeletal limbs of trees. Three shimmering moons illuminated the waves.

For a long while, nothing really happened.

Suddenly, a body crashed into the river. Dressed in all black with its face covered, it fell into the water with its arms and legs extended. At impact, the body stopped moving and floated on the surface for a brief moment before it began sinking into the water's depths.

A second body entered the water with much less force. This one was smaller, lithe. Its arms were stretched forward and its legs stretched back, the entire body almost making a perfect line, straight into the water. It began to swim as soon as it was submerged and its head was moving around wildly, as if looking for something.

A red beam of light cut through the water. It too, was searching for something.

The second figure moved quickly, pushing itself further down and away from the beam. Its legs kicked wildly but with purpose as it dove further down into the darkness.

The beam swung in the other direction, blind and unseeing but with equal purpose. It sliced through the water plants, fish and rock with clean, swift efficiency.

The second figure held its arms out and grabbed onto something.

A limp, covered hand.

The second figure began to pull up the first but it was too heavy, the water too strong and it was losing too much strength. But still, the figure held on. It would not let go; it would not stop trying to survive.

The river knew then that both bodies were close to dying, though one was still struggling, still fighting its fate. The smaller figure fought so hard and with such violence against its death, against the dark current, that it soon grew weaker. The river seemed to sigh then, wearied by the struggle.

After a few minutes, the figure’s movements began to slow.

Then there were two still bodies in the water.

And then they were gone.

###

Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise ran into the transporter room, nearly colliding into the doors in his impatience. Every ounce of his considerable focus was honed in on the newly materialized figures sprawled out on the transporter platform. They were both slim and dressed in black. Pools of greenish, gray water had formed around them but the water seemed to slide off the material of their clothing

Something caught the lights above, a flash of something which made his eyes narrow and then widen slightly as he came to a stop.

It was a small thing, really. A communicator much like his own, but shaped like an O and colored dark gray, made to resemble something like a halo. The other difference was that this communicator, the one both figures on the floor wore, he realized belatedly, was used only by officers from one organization.

"Federation Intelligence," Spock said behind him. Jim turned to face his First Officer with an expression of shock on his face. Spock merely nodded before looking back down at the transporter platform.. "I suspected this. The Admiral would not have requested participation of a flagship on a simple rescue mission, even in hostile territory."

"They were both in water when I pulled them out," Scotty spoke up behind his console. He stood and looked at the two bodies worriedly, his brow creased. "It was a difficult thing because I think they were caught up in a current. Awfully tricky to lock their signals without mixing ‘em up."

Scotty turned to Spock and frowned, scratching his chin. When he spoke next, his voice was laced with curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, sir - do you really think they’re Federation Intelligence?."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Though they are admittedly a secretive organization, that is their communicator," he said. He looked at Jim, who stared back at him evenly. They would speak about the shadowy FI after the two officers were taken care of.

A muffled groan made Jim turn back around and before he could do anything else, Dr. McCoy came rushing into the room with an assistant at his side.

The doctor knelt down and gently began to undo the straps around one figure's neck as his assistant did the same with the other. Starfleet officers on the rare stealth mission wore thin but strong protective head coverings, with shaded eye protectors and masked breathers attached to a small tank of oxygen at the hip. It seemed the same was true for the Federation Intelligence officers but the fabric was much sturdier and seemingly more complicated in design.

"Goddammit, these straps," McCoy muttered as he pulled the last one off. "Don't they know these things can kill a person if…"

He cried out then and jumped back suddenly. Jim rushed forward and McCoy looked up at him, his expression twisted with surprise and pain.

"It shocked me!" he said. "These damn suits are…"

"It would seem that their suits are electrified," Spock said. McCoy glared at him.

"I just said-"

"Bones…" Jim began but Spock stepped forward and studied the figure in McCoy's care.

"Doctor," Spock said calmly. "The water may have short circuited their suit systems. I doubt that the electricity is more than a weak field though, meant for communication purposes. There do not seem to be any battery systems or a grounding source."

McCoy shook his head and reached for his patient's mask again. "You could have just said it was a fluke."

He gently pulled out the visibly cracked breathing mask and slowly moved it away from the figure's face. His assistant, watching carefully, began to do the same to the other body.

Water and blood flowed out of the attached tube and McCoy winced. He glanced up at Jim with a grim look. "They probably have water in their tanks too. Depending on how long they were in that water…"

He didn't have to finish his sentence. The outcome was obvious.

The figure in McCoy's care - clearly a woman now, coughed suddenly, splattering blood and water over McCoy's blue uniform. To his credit, he didn't flinch but Jim took a step forward, seeming not to notice.

His blue eyes were large with shock and he knelt down with a thud, almost as if he were suddenly unable to keep standing.

Spock looked at the captain, taking in his sudden pallor and stunned expression.

"I assume you know who that officer is," Spock said. Jim nodded without looking at him.

When he didn't elaborate, Spock said nothing but carefully noted his captain's reaction. He moved closer towards McCoy on the platform and looked at the woman.

She was long-limbed with dark hair pulled back from her pale, nearly white, face. She blinked slowly, clearly dazed, with large gray eyes that were clearly unfocused. There was blood smeared over her features and the color was startlingly bright in contrast to the rest of her skin.

On the left side of her face was a large, rapidly darkening wound and her slender neck looked like one giant bruise. There was a long scratch along one cheek and a ragged puncture mark at the side of her neck, near her jaw. Her mouth was swollen and her bottom lip was split.

She looked up at McCoy, fear cutting through the haze of pain she was clearly in, and she pushed him away.

"You're safe, we're with the Federation," he began in a low, soothing tone but she sat up with surprising swiftness, her features twisting into a grimace and she held her arm - which looked to be broken- against her chest.

"Where is he?" she screamed at McCoy, pushing herself back with her feet against the floor. She left a streak of river water at her feet. Her eyes were bright and shiny with panic.

"Who are you and where's Daniel?"

"Ma'am, you are on the USS Enterprise and-" McCoy began again but Jim drew closer and looked into her face.

"Her name is Anna," he said firmly, looking briefly at McCoy. In a softer tone, he said, "Anna, it's Jim. You're safe. It's over. You're safe now."

But there was no recognition in her eyes. Instead she only glanced at Jim and then started looking around the room again, making desperate, frightened sounds in the back of her throat as if she had no access to words anymore. They could all see it then, how scared she was and Jim frowned, holding out his hands, palms up.

"Anna, it's Jim Kirk," he said again. "Remember? Back in Riverside? It's Jimmy. Anna, you're safe now."

The woman didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes scanned the room wildly and she cried out when she saw the other figure on the floor a few feet away from her. A myriad of expressions fluttered across her face then - fury, fear, panic- and without warning, she launched herself at McCoy's assistant, moving faster than any of them expected.

The assistant scrambled to his feet, startled by the sudden movement but Jim was faster.

He jumped forward on his haunches and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her arms together, pushing her down on her back firmly but gently with his body. Spock moved forward and took hold of her legs, pushing them down. Her back arched and she gritted her teeth, snarling at Jim.

She looked at him, her teeth bared in an expression of primal rage.

"Let me go!" Anna screamed and she cried out in pain when Jim's arm pressed against her broken limb. "I'll kill you if you hurt him! Let me go!"

She bucked against Jim and he struggled to keep her down without hurting her but she was much stronger than she appeared. So much stronger than anyone her size should have been, especially with her injuries. To his horror, she slammed the back of her head against the floor and he pushed her head down with his other hand in a poor attempt to keep her still. A pool of blood began to grow beneath her hair.

He looked up at McCoy who was already holding out a hypospray filled with a sedative.

"Bones, do something!"

"I believe she's been drugged," Spock said, looking down at her face. His voice was dispassionate despite the struggling body beneath his hands. "Her eyes are dilated and there is a puncture mark right below her jaw line."

McCoy leaned forward, and pushed her head carefully to one side with one hand as Jim leaned back. She screamed again at this touch and he pulled back. Spock was right - her eyes were dilated and they were moving from left to right, scanning the room wildly but without intelligence and without focus.

"Don't touch me again, you fucking bastards!" she snarled and Jim had to press down on her harder to keep her from getting up again.

"Hurry up, Doctor," Jim muttered under his breath. His eyes were fixated on her face and his lips were pressed together in a grim expression.

"Captain, if she's been drugged I can't give her a sedative now," McCoy said. "I have to get her into the medical bay for a tox-"

Suddenly, Anna gasped and her back arched, almost throwing Jim off. He felt her breath leave her body beneath his arms and then she went limp. He looked down at her face and for a moment, she stared up at him, her gray eyes confused and glassy with tears. She had the pleading gaze of a badly frightened child.

She blinked then, once, twice, before closing her eyes.

She lay still.

Spock frowned and McCoy leaned forward with his scanner, sweeping it above her suddenly motionless body.

For a moment, there was silence in the transporter bay.

And then McCoy was yelling into his communicator for additional support and equipment.

###

Coming back to consciousness felt like drowning.

When she was younger, she loved to go swimming. She loved the weight, the feeling of building pressure as she dove deeper and deeper into the water. When she learned how to dive as a teenager, she found that her favorite part was coming up from the depths. Slowly moving through the water, looking up at the sun or the moon growing brighter and bigger as she moved upwards. It felt like being reborn into a new world each time. 

This was a similar feeling but there was no enjoyment in it. Instead it was a struggle, a slow and painful return to awareness. She heard voices- indistinct and fuzzy. Slowly… slowly she heard words. And then fragments of sentences.

"…a year younger… friends, we did… disappeared when we were…"

"…broken ribs, almost punctured her lungs and she took a severe beating recently…near fatal for someone of..."

Years ago, she had been drugged repeatedly as part of her training. All cadets in the Federation Intelligence program had to go through drug trials to see how well they could resist various truth serums, hallucinogens and other mind altering chemicals. Along with the rest of her class, she had to learn how to claw out of a stupor into full awareness. 

Like diving and coming up again. 

But this time felt different. Her responses were slower and it was difficult to think. It was like being underwater, like barely getting your head above the surface for a breath before another wave hit. 

She was trying not to drown.

"…not just a drug but a poison… complete organ failure if we hadn't…"

"She's lucky we got to her in…"

"…much longer will she be out? You have to let me know when…"

"…her partner will be okay. His physical injuries were much more severe but he wasn't dosed with the same…"

_Daniel. _

Her mind snapped to at the word partner.

"Where?" Her voice sounded foreign, so dry and hoarse. She coughed suddenly, feeling a dull ache in her chest.

In the back of her mind, she registered pain and categorized it. Broken ribs- two on the left side and one on the right, broken radius and ulna, possible trauma at the back of her head. Superficial cuts and tears on her face. Entrance wound on her neck. 

She suspected that she looked near death at that moment but didn't care. She was breathing and breathing meant she was alive.

Two shapes _(heads? human?)_ dark against a bright light suddenly filled her vision and she realized that her eyes were open.

"Where?" she asked again. Her throat hurt something awful but she would ask for water later, once she determined where her and her partner had been taken.

"Anna, you are onboard the USS Enterprise," a male voice said from one of the dark figures above her and something inside her loosened with relief. She was safe then. Vaguely, she thought the voice that had spoken sounded familiar but trying to think, to remember, was difficult.

"You and your partner were rescued from the planet designated J-311 in the Gamma quadrant, two days ago, star date 2263.199.95 at 0300 hours. We suspect hostile forces were in pursuit of you both and you attempted a dive to escape."

The figure leaned in and she could almost make out his features.

"Jim, it would be a miracle if she even remembered her name at this point," the other figure said gruffly. He had a deeper voice, lower pitch and it sounded further away. "FI officer or not, she probably doesn't have the capacity to make sense of anything. That substance was a poison, a powerful hallucinogen - there are still traces of it in her system. Come back in a couple of days and then tell her the star date."

Ah, two males then. One named Jim and the other a doctor. She was in the medical bay on the USS Enterprise.

Something about the ship's name plus the familiar voice rang alarm bells in her mind but she pushed it aside. There were more important issues at hand.

Anna tried to lift her non-broken arm and found that she had been restrained. A sliver of panic went through her even though she knew the USS Enterprise was a Federation ship. She tried to move her legs but they had been restrained too.

_Breathe. Slow and steady. I'm okay. I can move my legs and my arms so I'm not paralyzed._

_They needed to restrain me because…_

_Because?_

"Stay still, you're going to be fine," the one with the gruff voice said. The doctor, then. "If you move, you'll tear your replicated skin."

"Where? Partner?" she forced out. Her eyes began to water and she closed them briefly. "Partner- where?"

She felt something on her forehead then; warm fingers gently brushed against her skin. It was a touch meant to comfort.

It was familiar.

"He's still sleeping," the doctor said. "He's safe, just like you are."

Then the figure named Jim said, "You should close your eyes, Anna, and get some rest."

"My name," she said, blinking. Things were beginning to come into focus now but their features were still blurry. "How’d’you... My name?"

Silence.

"How…"

"Anna, it's Jim Kirk. I'm the captain of this ship."

She only blinked, her mind trying to go as fast as it could despite the drugs. Jim Kirk… Captain Kirk… USS Enterprise. She knew his voice, his name, his ship's name… but right now all she could think about was Daniel and her partner and that damned fucking race of…

_Jimmy?_

"I don’t," she said, her voice becoming a whisper. It really did hurt too much to keep speaking but she went on. "I don't know."

"Jim, she can't…"

"Anna, we lived on Poplar street in Riverside," the voice continued. Steady but with a sense of urgency in his tone. "You moved next door to me when you were seven. I helped you climb the county water tower and you fell off and broke your leg for the first time. I came to see you in the hospital and tried to sneak you out, remember?

"When you were ten, we ran away from home and camped out near the English river and you fell in the water. You almost drowned. I taught you how to swim that day. Anna, it's Jimmy._ You have to remember_."

And she did. She remembered a skinny blonde boy, only a few inches taller than her, with bright blue eyes and a crooked smile, telling her to climb out of her bedroom window and jump down to the ground. _I'll catch you. _She remembered sitting in a class, her heart racing with fear and dread because she was so young and so small - the youngest and smallest one in this high school and the kids around her, staring… Then the rush of relief as the blonde boy entered the class and gave her a grin.

Images and snatches of voices replayed in her mind and she tried to make sense of them, tried to pull out an emotional response, tried to put together facts and dates. But she was so tired. She tried to push aside the pain in her body but it was creeping back, scattering her thoughts.

"Tell me," she mumbled. She felt her eyes growing heavy but she fought against it. Her lips hurt when she touched them together and she heard her voice, unrecognizably weak, stuttering over the words. "Trig. Partner. Have to be... okay."

The hand at her brow moved slowly and she felt herself beginning to drift. It was hypnotic, the slow gentle motion of fingertips on her skin.

"Sure thing," the man- Jim said. "Doctor McCoy here will let you know as soon as Trig wakes up."

The other man, Doctor McCoy, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse word and Jim muttered something back. Their voices began to fade again and Anna felt her eyes closing again, against her will.

_No. Can't sleep. Daniel's still down there. I have to go back…_

"Failed," she whispered. "Go back. Have to get him. Bring him back.."

The hand on her brow paused.

"Who?" Jim asked. "Who do you have to get back?"

"Daniel," she said. Her words were slurring together now, stuttering over certain sounds, becoming incoherent. "Alive… Tell them. Have to."

"Is that another officer?" Jim asked. "We were only told of two officers. Who is…"

She heard Jim asking her more questions. Heard both men's voices mingled together in a hushed argument. She wanted to speak, to tell them how to help her, but she was sinking back into the depths, into the darkness… the light above her was fading.

The waves swept over her and she was sinking, down, down, down.

Everything went black.

###


	2. Awake. Negotiations.

At the end of his shift, Dr. Leonard McCoy sat at his desk in his office and scrolled through the updates of his ongoing research projects from that day. His office was quiet and dimly lit, just as he liked it, and he could feel the tension from the day slowly easing away from his body. It was his ritual; some crew members and officers liked to work out and flush out the stresses of the day through sweat, some liked to surround themselves with friends, while others like to remain in their quarters to unwind.

McCoy liked staying in his office for an hour or two after his shift. He enjoyed sipping bourbon from his favorite glass while he read through the daily reports. Liked the peace and quiet and near darkness afforded by his office.

He could almost pretend he was back on Earth. There were no windows to expose him to the vast darkness of space.

He was currently looking into creating a vaccine for the Parinisti measles but was having trouble isolating the virus. It was a complicated problem and he took pleasure in having a puzzle to unravel at his leisure.

McCoy took another sip of his bourbon and glanced up at the display in front of him. He had visuals of the entire medical bay at his fingertips. Though he trusted his staff, he liked to keep tabs on all the activities that went on when he wasn't on the floor. Like his bourbon and his office, it relaxed him to know that everything was running smoothly.

He might have been a cranky bastard but he made damn sure that no one died on his watch or anyone else's watch, if he could help it.

He almost looked back down at the PADD in his hands when his eye caught on the two inhabitants at opposite corners of his medical bay.

The first one, the man, was in a static chamber. The woman was on a standard bed covered by a bio-sheet.

_Her name is Anna. She was a friend._

McCoy leaned forward, studying the face of the woman they had beamed aboard two days earlier.

McCoy knew that Jim and Spock had been frustrated in their efforts to gain more information about the two FI officers in his care. Spock had said something about a transmission from Admiral Pike followed by one from a General Bishop and tense relations between Starfleet and the Federation Intelligence but McCoy was not concerned about the whys and hows of how his patients came to be on the ship.

He had been more interested in their strange physiology.

Both she and her companion had various substances in their blood that were mysteries to him. There were oddities that puzzled and worried McCoy. He had isolated a poison they had both been dosed with and was currently running an analysis on its composition but could not seem to identify the other, seemingly inert chemicals running through their systems.

Another thing: though they were both healthy and fit (almost _too _healthy, McCoy thought) they each had various healed bones and old fractures that made them seem older than their years. It was clear that both Anna and Trig, as she had called her partner during a brief moment of consciousness, led a life of combat.

But they had been superbly healed. Neither had surface scars or sealed surgical intrusions though it was clear from the first scan that Jim had met his equals when it came to injuries. The ways in which they had been treated hinted to McCoy that these were no ordinary officers, despite the mystique of the Federation Intelligence.

He suspected, as he was sure Spock did, that one of them, if not both of his new patients held high ranks or were favored officers.

McCoy leaned back in his chair and watched the two resting bodies on different screens, deep in reflection.

He had tried to access Anna’s medical files using the full name Jim had given but apparently FI files were only accessible by other FI officers and even then, they had to be authorized to do so. Jim and Spock had formally submitted requests for personnel information but had been denied.

They weren't even given the _name_ of the unconscious man.

Jim had Scotty working on trying to crack the security systems without tripping up any internal alarms. After two days, they had made no headway whatsoever.

McCoy wondered briefly if Spock knew what Jim and Scotty were up to.

In any case, Jim told him only a little bit about the woman after McCoy had gotten her cleaned and fixed up-

_She was my friend. My only friend, really, when we were growing up. When I was eighteen, she disappeared. Her parents left town and I never heard from them again._

But McCoy knew that her appearance, or rather her reappearance, had thrown him off.

_I knew she wouldn't run away from home. She wasn't the type. I thought something bad had happened. She got sick or maybe something worse. No one said anything to me. No one knew anything._

_For years, I tried to find her, but she was gone._

And now here she was, more than a decade later.

Though Jim had learned to control himself and his emotions throughout the years, his expressive face spoke volumes. He had come into the recovery area where she lay after each of his shifts and stared, transfixed at her face, as McCoy briefed him on her status. Jim's bright blue eyes always seemed to darken when he looked at her.

McCoy had seen worry in his captain's eyes. Worry mixed with confusion and anger.

He remembered Jim's reaction when he removed the mask from Anna's face while they were on the transporter pad. He looked as if someone had struck him which was not quite the expression that McCoy thought someone would have upon seeing an old friend. There was more there that Jim wasn't telling him.

Yes, McCoy had quite a few puzzles to solve.

He tapped his fingers on the glass of bourbon, still deep in thought, when he noticed movement on the screen.

He frowned and leaned in.

Anna was waking up. Her vitals whirled next to her image and they were slowly rising as she rose to consciousness.

He considered getting up and checking on his patient but decided to watch for a few more minutes. Her actions upon waking would tell him more about her than simply questioning her would. McCoy was mildly surprised that she had woken up; the poison had almost shut down all organ functions. He only just purged her system and expected that she would be out for another day or two.

Her eyes fluttered and then opened. She blinked up at the light and then turned her head to the side. Her hands clenched and relax and he saw her toes wriggle under the sheet.

_She's testing out the use of her limbs and her mobility, _McCoy thought. 

_Interesting_.

To his increasing surprise, she sat up suddenly, keeping the protective sheet over her form as she looked around the room with an alertness that contradicted the strong medication that should have kept her down. At the very least, she _should _have been sluggish, her movements slow and hesitant. 

It had taken him hours to patch her up again and even more time for her partner. They both had severe internal and external injuries that led McCoy to believe they had either been tortured or involved in a particularly violent struggle. 

Probably both.

He frowned.

Anna had already woken up once and he'd been forced to increase the dosage of her sedative to an almost dangerous level. He also had to restrain her initially to prevent movement. Her partner had almost woken up mid-procedure as well but his injuries were far more critical. McCoy needed to keep him under an induced coma in a static chamber to ensure that he stayed unconscious and _still_.

McCoy kept watching.

She looked around the room slowly, her eyes large and curious as she took in the sights. Her gaze lingered on the entrance, at the table and the scan pad next to her bed and at the screen filters surrounding her. There was a sharpness in her eyes that should not have been there. 

McCoy could almost hear her mind working, her thoughts racing.

He briefly noted her vitals. Her heartbeat was slow and steady and there was no adrenaline spike, as most patients would usually have upon waking in a strange room.

_This is incredible. This shouldn’t be possible in humans. _

She raised her chin then and looked up. 

Directly at him.

"Shit," McCoy said, sitting up and nearly knocking over his glass. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Of course she couldn't see him but it was still disconcerting to have her looking up at where the hidden visual monitors were placed within the walls. How could she have known where they were?

She seemed to stare at him for a long time, her gaze calm and her expression inscrutable before she finally looked away. Anna had the face of a doll, delicate and almost perfectly symmetrical. But there was an unsettling quality to her features that he found off-putting. He supposed most people would have found her beautiful, despite the slowly fading wounds on her face but there was something not right about her steady, nearly unblinking gaze. 

_Creepy. Like a damn reptile._

She was just too still. Her face was almost mask-like in its blankness. 

With one hand, she reached up and touched her face, mouth thinning when her fingers grazed the fading bruise on her cheek. She touched her lips, her brow wrinkling in thought and then the edge of her jaw.

All areas that he had treated by the re-gen.

She sat still for a moment and swung her legs over the edge of her bed and stood up.

_Dammit! Of all the idiotic things…_

McCoy was out of his office with his scanner in hand before he had time to watch her fall to her knees.

###

Anna clutched the sheet around her and reached up to the edge of her bed for leverage. She winced as she tried to pull herself up to her feet and felt her legs begin to shake with the effort.

There was pain but she pushed it aside, concentrating instead on trying to stand. She knew her body was still recovering but figured she could at least stand on her own two feet without a problem.

She was wrong.

The room- clearly an isolated recovery area in a medical bay, seemed to spin around her and she leaned on the bed, closing her eyes and taking deep, steady breaths.

She heard steps coming from behind her and opened her eyes, ignoring the way the room seemed to lurch from side to side.

"You're getting back on that bed, you damn fool girl," a gruff voice said behind her. "You have enough sedatives in your system to knock out a Denebian whale. Did you think you were going to take a stroll through the ship?"

Anna turned, still clutching the sheet to her chest, and felt her legs fail her again. Before she could fall, a tall dark-haired man grabbed her by her arms, steadying her.

"Thank you," she said, and her voice sounded hoarse and weak. She cleared her throat and licked her lips.

The man snorted and she looked up at him, studying his face.

He looked to be only a few years older than her and had deep set hazel eyes. There was stubble on his cheeks and dark shadows under his eyes, but despite it all he was handsome. He wore the blue uniform of a Starfleet commanding medical officer and she glanced briefly at the communicator on his chest and the pips at his neck before looking up at his face again.

The man was looking back at her with an expression of concern and annoyance but he tried to push her back down onto the bed with a surprising gentleness that belied his expression. 

She resisted. 

"Where's my partner?" she asked, pushing back on him slightly. The hand on her bare arm tightened but she didn't care. "What's his condition?"

He made a noise of irritation. "He's fine and stable," he said. "And if you don't get back on that bed, I'm going to-"

"May I see him, please?"

"No. Will you just trust me when I say he's fine? Now get back up there or you can feel free to lay about on the floor."

Without another word or protest, she let him help her back on the bed. She sat up though, refusing to lie back down, and stretched her legs.

The man pulled a handheld scanner from his hip belt and it began to whir softly as he passed it over her face. He tilted her head up, his touch soft but firm.

"Look up," he said, passing the scanner over her eyes. "What's your name?"

She hesitated and he pulled her chin back down.

"Did you forget your name?" he asked bluntly. "Now look down."

"Anna," she said. "Anna Demerin."

He continued his ministrations, moving down to her jaw and started firing questions and commands at her.

"Look to the side. You'll be a few days off but what's current stardate?"

"Now to the other side. What system is Earth in?"

"Move your right arm up, hold it steady. Good. What year was the Federation founded?"

"Now make a fist. Okay, straighten your fingers and rotate your wrist. Who is the planetary ruler of the Drema sector."

He paused when she responded without hesitation, putting the scanner down.

"That was a trick question," he said, staring at her. "There are no known inhabitants in that sector."

"Is that what you've been told?" she asked, curious. She tilted her head to the side and shrugged, making sure the sheet was still in place.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm coherent and I'm aware of who I am," she said. "I'd rather not be sedated again but I'll sit here quietly, if that's what you want me to do, doctor."

"That's exactly what I want you to do, Anna," the man said, his frown growing deeper. "I'd also like you to keep qu-"

"However," she said, watching his expression grow even darker. "I'm hoping you can answer a few questions for me. Please."

The man took a step back and studied her, crossing his arms with his scanner still in hand. He nodded slightly.

"What vessel am I on?" she asked.

"You're on the USS Enterprise," he said. She nodded and looked at the wall behind him, considering.

"What is our current location?"

"We're in the Gamma quadrant and damned if I keep track of our exact coordinates."

"You're the Chief Medical Officer," she said slowly. It was not a question.

"And you're a Federation Intelligence officer," he shot back. “Spies and assassins?” 

She looked back at him, unperturbed by his curt tone.

"Both me and my partner are safe and alive," she said, ignoring his last statement. "Because of you, Doctor…?"

"McCoy," he said. He uncrossed his arms but did not raise the scanner. "Doctor Leonard McCoy."

"How long has it been since my partner and I were rescued?" she asked.

"Two days," McCoy said. "Both of you were in critical condition. I can go over the specifics later, if you insist. And I'm pretty sure you're the type to insist."

She realized he was baiting her, waiting for a reaction but she brushed it off. His eyes were watching her with barely concealed interest. She had no doubt that he had already taken tissue samples from her for later study.

She would have to remember to destroy those before she left.

"What is our time frame for a full recovery?" she asked. McCoy clearly had not anticipated the question and for a moment, he looked taken aback. "Have any of our injuries caused permanent damage or limited mobility?"

"If you're asking because you think you and your partner– "

"His name is Trig."

"– are going anywhere near back down to the planet where you were rescued from, then you're out of your mind."

"That decision doesn't rest with you, Doctor McCoy," she said simply. She watched his reaction closely. His cheeks turned pink and for a moment she thought he was on the verge of yelling at her but he only shook his head and gave her a small smile.

"Now I can believe you and Jim were friends. Both stubborn as all get out," he muttered, shaking his head again. He huffed and began to scan her side. "It may not rest with me but it sure as hell depends on the captain."

"Only to a certain point," she said. "And who is the captain?"

"James Kirk," he said. He paused and looked at her as if expecting a reaction.

_No._

Anna remained still. She willed herself not to show anything on her face and continued breathing normally, calmly. She felt the doctor's watchful eyes, observing her and she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing anything more than she would allow him to.

_Of all the places I could have ended up._

"Oh?" she said, her voice sounded only mildly interested. "James T. Kirk. Son of Winona and George Kirk? From the Narada event."

"That would be the one," McCoy said, narrowing his eyes. "He said you were friends when you were both little."

"That was a long time ago," she said, looking at the scanner in his hand. She tightened her grip on the blanket.

"Not too long ago, according to him."

"I take it you and the captain are close?" she asked.

"Close enough," McCoy said. "Just like he said the both of you once were."

"When can I speak to him?" she asked.

She saw his eyes flicker to the table on the other side of the bed and she sighed, not wanting to waste any more time.

"Doctor, by now you should know that I don't respond normally to sedatives and neither does Trig," she said sharply. "You probably had to resort to a chemical coma since his injuries were much worse than mine and he needed to be unconscious. That hypospray you're thinking about using on me will barely slow me down at this point- it definitely won't stop me from speaking or from acting later."

"Are you telling me how to do my job?"

"You're rather young to be a CMO," she went on. "So I can only guess that you're a fast learner. Let me help you understand things a bit quicker, then. I'm on a critical, time-sensitive mission. The childhood friendship I had with your captain has no bearing on my request to speak to him. I'm not here to reminisce."

"Now you wait just a damn-"

"So I'll stay in this bed for another few hours and keep my mouth shut if and when you tell me Captain Kirk will meet with me," she finished.

For a moment, he only stared at her, his expressive eyes large and wide. And then to her surprise, he began to laugh. It was a deep, throaty laugh but a true one. Anna watched him silently as he shook his head.

"Good grief," he said, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Two of you on the same ship are going to be the death of me, I swear."

"So you'll let him know that I've requested a meeting?"

"First of all," McCoy said, shaking his head. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes seemed brighter and Anna was fine with having his laughter directed at her. As long as she got the results she wanted.

"First of all, Captain Kirk has been itching to speak to you since the moment he saw your face so you don't have to worry about me standing in your way. Second, I sincerely doubt that he'd even consider letting you look out the window to see that planet again much less set foot on it. I don't think you understand but you were practically knockin' on Death's door, begging to be let in by the time we got you on board. That goes for your partner, too. Another thirty seconds in the water and you'd have a sheet over your face instead of arguing with me like a damn fool.

"Finally, I've noticed how freakish your system is and believe you me, I _will_ get to the bottom of it and you _will _tell me how the hell it's possible you're up and running your mouth and your partner isn't brain dead despite the trauma to his spinal cord. You shouldn't even be awake right now, and you know it!"

Anna considered his outburst for a moment. "Then we’re both very fortunate to have you as our doctor."

He stopped laughing but there was still a trace of mirth in his eyes as he looked at her. He then shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Aw, Christ, fine," he said. He tapped the communicator on his chest and took a deep breath. "McCoy to Kirk. Respond please."

"Kirk here," a tired voice said. "I was just about to head down there."

"Good," McCoy said. He glanced at Anna and raised his eyebrow. "There's someone here who's very eager to speak to you."

"She's awake?" The voice sounded much less tired now. McCoy hesitated. "Bones?"

She watched as he glanced back at her. A ghost of his earlier smile appeared.

"Yeah, Jim, she's awake," he said. He tapped his communicator again and sighed. "Are you happy now? Got any other requests you'd like me to take care of? Aside from saving you and your partner's lives, of course."

Anna looked down at herself and then lifted her chin.

"Yes. I'd prefer to be fully clothed."

###


	3. Federation Intelligence. A Clash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything about the FI is fake - it's not in canon (and I just didn't want to deal with Starfleet Intelligence).

In the early 22nd century, shortly after the United Federation of Planets was founded, a small group of the human alliance joined together to form a branch separate from Starfleet Intelligence focused on executing targeted classified operations. As this small group swiftly gained more power and supporters, they were entrusted with foreign and domestic espionage, counter-espionage, and security at the highest levels. Their purpose was to defend the United Federation of Planets by any means necessary. Over the years, they became the 'actionable' arm of Starfleet - the Federation Intelligence. This group consisted of intelligence, defense and science officers in charge of larger inter-galactic and planetary field operations and followed a similar hierarchy to the former United States Army. 

They became the branch that handled the "by any means necessary" portion of Starfleet. 

Most people, particularly those outside of the Federation regarded them with fear and uncertainty, considering Starfleet as a lawful front for the darker FI. After all, by having a separate organization, Starfleet could make the case for plausible deniability when it came to morally ambiguous operations or decisions. Their chain of command demanded and enforced extreme secrecy in all aspects of service

As a military group, the FI executed key missions and campaigns and were not bound to normal ethical constraints. The information they gathered was often brought directly up to the highest branch within Starfleet, and was filtered down as needed to select individuals.

Because of this, relations between the FI and Starfleet major were often, in a word - _ tense. _ In fact, Starfleet considered the branch like a highly intelligent but particularly vicious guard animal; necessary but dangerous. And sometimes, more of the latter and less of the former.

FI officers were rumored to be the best and brightest minds; cadets were gathered from within and outside of Starfleet, a fact which rankled Starfleet major to no end. Oftentimes, both were in a race for the same recruit. The FI recruitment process was also shrouded in mystery. It was said that extensive psychological and physiological tests were done without the knowledge of a potential recruit. One had to meet three key requisites in order to be considered for the FI.

_ No one applied to the FI, they recruited you. _

And Anna was one of them_. _

That one fact bothered Jim the most. That the girl he had known, the most constant presence in his life, had been taken from him by the darkest agency in Starfleet. He refused to believe that she had gone willingly into the FI, that she had willingly abandoned _ him _ to join _ them. _

It hurt too much to even consider it.

All of these thoughts weighed heavily on Jim Kirk as he stepped into the Medical Bay.

###

When Jim reached the isolation ward, he found Anna upright on a bed, with the sheet pooled around her waist, scanning a PADD. McCoy stood next to her, noting readings from his scanner and, as was his usual expression, frowning.

She wore the standard gray undershirt for patients in the med bay and the muted color made her seem washed out and colorless. Her limp black hair hung down her shoulders and a yellowing bruise along with various cuts and scratches marred her skin. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she stared down intently.

For a moment she seemed to still and though her gaze remained on the screen, she turned her head towards Jim slightly. Her mouth tilted down, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she read on.

Jim could not stop looking at her. A mess of emotions, anger, sadness, worry, fought for dominance and he latched on to the most familiar emotion.

_Where were you?_

_This whole time, where the hell were you? _

"Doctor McCoy, did you find traces of anomalous substances in Trig?" she asked, not looking up. "It says here that he lacked the chemical compound in his blood that I had and-"

McCoy huffed, "I found plenty of anomalous substances in your partner and in yourself. But if you're asking if he was poisoned like you then the answer is no. Looks like you were a special target."

He sighed again and looked at her.

"By the way, we made a deal. You got acceptable clothing, I called the captain- now you're going to eat, is that clear?" he said. "And I don't want to hear another argument about not being hungry. I don't run a daycare, I'll have you know. And Trig? Really. What kind of parents name their son…"

McCoy trailed off, suddenly noticing that Jim was standing at the bulkhead. Anna, who had been studiously ignoring McCoy's diatribe, realized that he had fallen silent. She looked up and followed his gaze to where Jim stood.

If Anna was surprised to see him, she didn't show it.

She put her PADD down and straightened her posture. Her back made a rigid line from the top of her head to her waist. A bland but polite smile graced her features and Jim recognized the expression. It was almost identical to the one she used to give adults when they had gotten in trouble as children.

It didn't reach her eyes.

"How is she?" Jim asked McCoy. McCoy glanced at Anna and raised his eyebrow but she seemed wholly unfazed by the heat in Jim's voice.

"She's fine," McCoy said, looking confused. "She should stay in bed for a few more hours until the sedative completely wears off. Otherwise, she's fine."

He glanced at Anna again. "But you can ask her yourself."

"Captain Kirk," she said suddenly. The politician's smile was still on her lips, seemingly respectful but lacking sincerity and Jim rolled his eyes. "I'd like to thank…"

"You can stop with the performance, Anna," he said sharply. He strode over to her bed and glared at her with all the pent up anger accumulated throughout the years. "What happened to you? Where the hell have you been?"

An unreadable expression flitted across her face before becoming neutral once more.

"I understand that past circumstances have-" she began but Jim cut her off.

"You know who I am, don't you?" he said. He watched as her expression soured and felt a wave of satisfaction. He wanted to make her uncomfortable, to throw her off balance. Make her feel a modicum of the turmoil he felt. "You remember who I am?”

It was the least she deserved.

"Of course, I know who you are," she said after a moment. "But after this long, are you truly still angry?"

"Damn right I'm still angry," Jim said. It made him irrationally resentful, that she wasn’t showing any sort of guilt or remorse and words come out of his mouth without thought. "You just missed it the first time around.”

"I didn't think you'd still feel so strongly about something that happened years ago."

"Jim, quit throwing a tantrum," McCoy cut in angrily. "You're the captain, not a toddler."

"You stay out of this, Bones!" Jim retorted and McCoy glared at him.

"Pull yourself together, man," McCoy said. "You're in my territory, captain or not. I give the orders here and I'm telling you right now, calm down!"

McCoy huffed and looked back down at his scanner. "By the way you're acting you'd barely even know you were practically haunting her bedside like a damn ghost."

Jim felt himself deflate at McCoy's words and though he had been full of righteous anger mere moments before, now he only felt foolish.

McCoy was right. He needed to get a hold of himself. Despite the history and unanswered questions between them, Anna was still a member of Starfleet. For all he knew, she would turn around and report his behavior to the same FI official he had gotten into a heated discussion with the day before. 

Or worse, to Pike.

Jim knew that Anna and her partner were not simply officers. By the manner with which General Bishop had spoken to him, tense and terse, it was clear that they were both on a classified mission. Possibly reconnaissance and the Federation Intelligence did not suffer inquiries from Starfleet lightly. Although he had been the one to call in the search and recover mission, Bishop refused to divulge any information about what Anna and her partner were doing on the planet and who the inhabitants were, why they were nearly dead by the time they were found or even their full names and rank. According to Jim's own research, the planet was supposed to be devoid of life. 

Bishop had told Jim in no uncertain terms that he was to comply with any and all reasonable requests from Anna but that she was under no obligation to tell him anything about herself, her team or her mission. Anna and her partner were to be treated with such manner and care as befitting ambassadors.

The whole discussion had rubbed Jim the wrong way. He knew how to charm and cajole; how to turn a crowd to his favor. He was aware of his strengths, after all, and had learned to cultivate and develop his political acumen and diplomatic skills over the past few years. Unfortunately, Bishop was not a man to be charmed or even reasoned with. When Spock tried to reason that Anna and her partner were on a Starfleet ship and that their word was law, Bishop had thrown regulations and codes at them so fast that it made Jim's head spin.

Spock had told him afterwards that the rules Bishop had referred to dealt primarily with codes of silence and security surrounding high-risk field operations. 

Whatever Anna and the FI were up to was not simply intelligence gathering.

They had taken the fight up to Pike, who had not seemed surprised by the general's manner. Unfortunately, it was out of his hands. Starfleet and the Intelligence agency worked cooperatively - on paper. According to him, whatever was going on had been cleared through some considerable pressure by the highest officers within Starfleet major and all information was on a "need to know" basis.

And Jim knew that whatever grim reputation the Intelligence agency had garnered, it had surely earned.

"Okay, fine," Jim said, looking briefly at McCoy. McCoy only glared at him until Jim lowered his gaze. "Okay, Bones."

"How do you feel?" Jim asked, looking back at Anna. His voice had softened considerably and he forced himself to assume a less threatening posture.

But the damage was done.

Anna regarded him with a cool expression on her bruised and battered face. It looked like the face of a stranger with only vaguely familiar features and it made him feel sick. Whoever she was to him, whatever they had been as children - Anna Demerin had clearly left it all behind.

He had ruined his first chance to reconnect with her.

"Because of Doctor McCoy's considerable skill, I'm fine," she said. She glanced at McCoy. "Doctor, would you mind leaving us for a few minutes? I've things to discuss with Captain Kirk."

McCoy looked at Jim who nodded.

"I'll be in my office," he said, widening his eyes pointedly at Jim. There was a warning in his voice that said more than words could. "Let me know when you're done speaking. I'll have Nurse Chapel bring up some dinner."

Before McCoy could turn to leave however, Anna grabbed his arm, forcing him to pause and turn around. For a brief moment, the expression on Anna's face was replaced by one of true distress.

"If Trig wakes up, please."

"I know, I know!" McCoy said, exasperated. "I heard you the first time you asked. I'll let you know when he wakes up."

Anna released him and he stomped off, grumbling under his breath. Jim was tempted to smile, to share the moment with Anna but she only stared at him, clearly uninterested. She waited until the doors closed before putting the PADD to the side.

"Captain, thank you for responding to the distress call," she said but Jim waved her off.

"Not a problem," he said. "We happened to be in the area so when we received the call your General Bishop sent out, we were able to be the first ones onsite."

"Nevertheless," she said. She stared at him, waiting.

"You're welcome," Jim said, after a moment. He put his hand on the edge of her bed and smiled slightly. "I am glad you're alright. You really scared us all."

"Have you spoken to General Bishop since that transmission?"

Jim frowned.

"I spoke with him yesterday. With my first officer, Commander Spock," Jim said. He took a deep breath. “Look Anna, I'm sorry for my behavior just now. I was being-"

"I'd like to request a secure comms line to him as soon as possible," she said briskly. "Also, once Trig recovers from his injuries, I'd like to request his release at the nearest star base per your convenience, of course."

"And yourself?" Jim asked. She may have changed, the FI may have taught her to have rigid control over her reactions, but there was something in her voice, a familiar tone that caused alarms to go off in Jim's head.

She had always been a good kid, smart and shy, but Jim had taught her to be fearless and maybe a little reckless. He had been a bad influence on her. Horrible, really.

Perhaps some things had stuck with her.

"I'd like to take a shuttle back planet-side," she said. "I've taken the current coordinates of your ship from the computer. We're too far to use the transporter safely. I'll have the FI replace the shuttle so you don't have to wait for its return.”

"No," Jim said quickly. "Absolutely not. That's out of the question."

"I expect to be fully recovered in a few days," she went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. "Doctor McCoy confirmed this earlier. As soon as I get a new suit, which I'm sure General Bishop can procure and have sent here, I'll be more than equipped to return to J-311 and continue my mission."

"I said no," Jim said, his voice hardening. "I don't know what you were doing on that planet but whatever it was, it almost killed you."

"I was unprepared the first time," Anna said, lifting her chin up slightly. Defiantly. "It won't happen a second time."

"No," Jim said. "I'm not changing my mind on this, Anna. Not until I know exactly what the hell is going on. I don't care that you're with Federation Intelligence- this is my ship and I'm in charge of the welfare of everyone on board. That includes you now. Letting you to return to that planet without back-up and without even _ knowing why _ puts your life at risk. I'm not going to allow that."

"My asking permission was merely a formality," she said. An edge was creeping into her voice. "According to Starfleet regulation four two six five, section four, I have the right-"

"My ship, my rules," Jim said. She glared at him and he stared right back at her, unyielding. "The only way you get off this ship is if you steal a shuttle and there aren't any rules or codes that will protect you from being court-martialed if you do."

"It wasn’t really a request, Captain Kirk."

"Your general said to give you what you want within reason," Jim went on. "What you're asking for is not only unreasonable but suicidal."

He paused, watching her hands curl into fists. Her lips were pressed so tightly that he was sure she would re-split the wound there.

She was clearly used to giving orders and having them followed. She was used to having her requests taken seriously. Anna had never been a spoiled brat, nor had she ever acted entitled. No, the behavior she exhibited now was due to being in a position of command and power. The only reason she had asked him for permission was because she hadn't thought she would, or could, be denied.

Again, more evidence for Anna being above a simple intelligence officer.

_ Scotty better crack those files soon. _

Jim understood all of this on some level. But all he could think about was the way she had felt, lifeless in his arms covered in blood and water two days earlier. He thought she had died. He had felt her heart skip, then literally felt it stop beating as he held her. 

He had felt the breath leave her body and felt her heart just stop.

_Did you know you almost died? How close you came?_

He kept thinking how unfair it was that he had found her again, only to lose her just as quickly.

Jim remembered how she had looked up at him and for one moment, had seen him. And she had been asking him to help her, to save her, the same way she used to look at him when they were kids.

So he didn't mind her glare now or the fact she was keeping him at a distance. She was alive and here and he meant to keep it that way for as long as he could.

"You do realize that once I speak with my commanding officer and our superiors at Starfleet, they'll order you to release me," she said. 

Jim smiled thinly and shrugged.

"I am so sure they will," he said. He paused before striking. 

"Who's Daniel, Anna?"

Whatever color she had gained in anger swiftly disappeared. Her eyes widened and she looked… She looked afraid. The first hint of true emotion he could discern aside from frustration. 

To her credit, Anna did not ask how he knew that name. She understood that it didn't matter how Jim knew; all that mattered was what he planned to do with the knowledge.

"He's FI. Former member of my team," she said. Her voice was even and calm though she was nearly white with shock. He watched as her fists uncurled and curled again. "He's on that planet. I have to get him back."

They stared at each other for a moment and Jim tilted his head to the side.

"General Bishop only mentioned two officers in his original transmission," Jim said. He leaned forward so that his thighs rested on the edge of her bed, and looked into her eyes. He didn't think she'd let him come closer but she looked so frail suddenly he wanted to give her some sort of comfort. "Why only two, Anna?"

"Because none of us expected him to still be alive," she said. She took a deep breath and laid her hands flat out on her lap before curling them into fists. Another holdover from childhood, he noticed. She tended to get fidgety when she was nervous - she may have been able to hide it in her face and in her voice but her hands had always been a clear tell.

"He's with them. With the Tressacks - what we're currently calling the inhabitants of J-311. Daniel is…_ was_ part of my team so it is my responsibility to find out what happened to him. Almost all the probabilities we ran said he'd be dead."

She pressed her lips together and Jim had the feeling that she was holding something back. She was probably holding a tidal wave of information back but there was something else, with this situation specifically, that she was hiding.

"He wasn't dead though.” She exhaled shakily and looked away. He was suddenly reminded that she only just woken up from nearly two days of being unconscious.

_ All that blood… _

"How was he taken?" Jim asked gently. "Why did they take him?"

"He wasn't…" she began but trailed off. She looked up at him then, and he could see she was slowly regaining control of herself. He could see the fear slowly being eclipsed behind a calm gray stare.

"That’s classified information," she said. "I won't pretend that you care about an FI officer you've never met and I won't presume that our history will have any effect on your future actions. But if it were one of your crew - you'd do anything to get them back, wouldn't you?"

Jim said nothing but she seemed to stare at him, searching his eyes, his face for something. When she looked away, he knew he had been found lacking.

She shook her head and leaned back onto her bed, coughing into her hand. The color hadn't returned to her face and he realized that she must have been beyond the point of exhaustion. Even just sitting up must have taken a large amount of effort. To stay awake and alert, especially against a cranky doctor and an angry captain, both pushing for information, would have pushed anyone else beyond their limit.

_ Bones said he had to give her almost three or four times the normal amount of sedatives. _

It was clear she was fighting to stay conscious, even to her own detriment. She licked her lips and coughed again and without saying a word, Jim walked to the end of the bed towards the replicator on the far side of the wall. He asked for water and when it materialized, he walked back to Anna.

She took the cup gratefully with both hands and took a sip.

"I'm sorry. Again," Jim said. He didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for really. His anger, pushing her about her mission, her missing officer, not seeing how tired she really was beneath the surface, or all of the above. "I know what it's like to want to protect your crew, your team. But Anna, going back there this soon isn't possible and it isn't smart. You could cause more trouble than you can resolve alone there. I think you know this." 

"About that secure comms link," she began and Jim nodded.

"Yeah, I'll clear it," he said. "But after the Gamma shift. McCoy told me a little about your speedy recovery time but I think I'll play it safe. It can't hurt to get more rest."

He watched her carefully as she seemed to struggle with herself about complaining. He waited for her to say something, to insist upon contacting Bishop now but she only took another sip of water.

"Fine," she said, oddly subdued. Her face was blank as she stared at the wall in front of her. "Every minute I'm on this ship is a minute that I waste. I need to retrieve the agent from that planet as soon as possible."

"I understand that," Jim said. "But I'm not letting anyone on this ship risk their lives for this."

"You don't understand," she said. It may have been a trick of the light but the shadows under her eyes seemed to grow darker and her cheeks seemed to hollow.

"Then why don't you tell me so I do understand, Anna," he said. He hesitated, and then reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "I want to help, but without more information, it doesn't make sense to me to allow you to go back to where you were almost killed. I'm happy to drop you and Trig off wherever else you want me to. We're about two weeks out to the nearest star base but if that's where you want to be, I'll gladly redirect our course. But I cannot, I will not allow you to go back there without back-up."

It hurt when she shrugged off his touch and he drew his hand back.

"Understood, captain," she said.

"You know you can call me Jim, right?" he said, attempting to smile and defuse the mood. When she only stared at him, he took a step back, trying to keep the hurt at bay.

"Well, in any case," he said. "I'll secure quarters for you by tomorrow when Bones gives the all clear and for your partner once he wakes up. You can take the transmission from there."

"Good. Thank you," she said. She seemed to be withdrawing from him, her expression distant and thoughtful, and he felt helpless against her silence.

"Get some rest, Anna," he muttered. 

She nodded once, silently, but did not bother looking at him again.

He tapped her bed and then turned to leave. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What had just transpired between them wasn't right. They had been friends. He had always protected her, always made sure she was safe, even when he wasn't sure about his own safety. They had loved each other as only children could love - completely and without reservation.

_ She was all I had. _

He opened his eyes and shook his head.

Whatever their past, he couldn't just leave like this. Jim knew he had to make things okay between them. It was clear she didn't trust him but he hadn't exactly given her reason to believe that she could. He turned back around to face her.

"I just need to know…" he began but he found that her eyes were closed. _ The sedatives must have finally won. _He frowned and walked back, looking down at her face.

She still held the cup loosely in her hand, and her breathing was shallow but steady. In sleep, her face seemed softer, less guarded. He reached out, meaning to brush back a few stray strands of her hair from her brow, but stopped himself. He wasn't allowed this. Instead he carefully pried the cup, still a third of the way full, from her fingers and set it down on the table. Her fingers curled in and she drew her injured arm closer to her chest. 

Even in sleep her body still needed to protect itself from him.

Jim waited a beat and then pulled the sheet up to her shoulders and waited for it to warm up.

He stood there for a moment longer and then walked away. 

###


	4. Bishop. Tabernacle.

"Anna Demerin," Anna said clearly and slowly, staring straight ahead. 

She stood still, patiently waiting in front of the large communications screen in her assigned quarters, with her hands clasped behind her back. "Request transmission line to Federation Intelligence, alpha-double-one clearance."

She had been released by Doctor McCoy only a few hours ago. Though he’d had a nurse walk her to her new quarters, Anna could have found it without any help. After all, she had studied and memorized the outline and deck maps of the Enterprise on the PADD he had given her. It had been all too easy to hack into the ship's database through the device and she made a mental note to warn him the next time she caught him alone.

Or not.

Starfleet could take care of itself and if they wanted to remain vulnerable and not run in-depth checks on their own equipment then it was of no concern to her.

But still, the doctor had taken care of her and Trig. She wanted to return the favor.

Anna was not surprised to find herself next door to Captain Kirk’s personal quarters. He wanted to keep an eye on her, which was fine. She probably would have done the same but with perhaps more subtlety. She was under no illusion that he wanted to keep her safe or cared about her welfare. He was angry with her, that much was obvious and he probably held the same prejudices about the FI as most Starfleet command did. He wanted her off his ship as soon as possible, but only to his own benefit.

She didn't hold it against him. All he wanted was information from her. 

_ I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. As it should be._

It was what everyone wanted, after all. Information was currency in Starfleet.

Once the doors had closed behind her, she wasted no time in making use of the sonic. There were areas on her body that were still sore and raw, but she was able to stand without her legs shaking and that was more than acceptable. She examined her body in the shower, ignoring its relaxing waves, and made note of her too thin limbs and aching ribs. That was less than acceptable. She had lost enough muscle tone in the past month that it was visible.

_Daniel's alive. After all this time, he's alive. _

_I wasted all that time on him._

She would have to take up her usual physical regime as soon as possible in order to return to her peak condition.

Someone had kindly left a week's worth of clothing in the small closet across the bathroom and she eagerly discarded the medical uniform. Pulling the black sweater over the waist of her trousers, she noted the loose fit with no little amount of irritation. She hadn't glanced at the mirror to study the severity of her facial wounds though there was a part of her that wanted to see.

_ What they did to me. What they thought they could do. _

_ They’ll pay for that. _

Now was not the time to care about her appearance. It wasn’t important to this operation so she had little need to bother.

"Secure link complete," said the soft, feminine voice of the computer. "Visual up."

True to word, General Bishop's face appeared on the screen before her. He was an older man with a thick head of short silver hair. Though his face was lined with scars and experience, there was a brightness in his light eyes that made him seem far younger than his years. He was standing behind his desk, wearing the stiff blue uniform of a commanding officer and he cut a dashing line with his broad shoulders and trim figure.

He was a handsome man, but like Anna, there was a sharpness in his features, an ever-alert, ever-watchful cast to his eyes that marred his face. All FI officers had the same predatory-like edge. It marked them and set them apart in a way that no uniform could.

"General Bishop," Anna said, standing up straight and pulling her shoulders back. “Reporting for debrief, sir.”

"At ease," he said, nodding slightly. His voice was hard but there was a faint softness in the way he looked at her, an easing of the shoulders and a slight turn of the mouth that betrayed his fondness. She noted this, all the familiar expressions of her advisor and felt relief wash over her.

She had missed him. Missed seeing a face she trusted.

"It's damn good to see you, Colonel Demerin," he said and this time, he smiled broadly, showing off a dazzling white smile. For those who didn't know him as well, the smile would have looked menacing instead of welcoming. 

To Anna, it looked like home. Like safety.

"It's also good to see that Starfleet ships are as fast as they claim to be."

She placed her hands at her side and took a deep breath.

"It's good to see you as well, sir," she said. "I assume you called in a few favors else I wouldn't be standing here."

"Less a favor than the return of one," he said grimly. "They owe us for quite a few things by our count."

"General, Trig is still under static," she said quickly. "But recovering nicely. He should awaken at any moment now."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear that," the general replied. For a moment, they stared at each other as a silent conversation went on.

_We can't speak freely. It's not safe._

_ Understood. _

By using Trig's nickname, Anna was telling Bishop that despite the secure link, she was unsure of the fidelity of the captain's promise. She was warning him to proceed with caution or to only divulge information that he was fine with releasing.

"I'll send over my full report of the mission, including our medical records after this transmission. I'll need a base run on the chemical the Tressacks used on me. Trig was unaffected by the substance."

Bishop’s face darkened and Anna could easily see how her mentor could frighten and intimidate officers twice his rank. Though he seemed average-sized on the screen, she knew that he was over six feet four and used his considerable height to its full advantage. She was above the average height for most women but even she had to look up in order to face him.

"I heard about that," he said. "I'll have the Nave run them through and send you the results. What do you suspect?"

"It wasn’t meant to be lethal," she said slowly. She stood alone in the dark room but she knew she wasn't the only one present. "CMO McCoy, my attending doctor, was able to isolate the compound and I've asked him to give me his findings. I believe it was a level one substance."

"Though it didn’t quite prevent your escape," Bishop said.

"Correct, sir," she said. "Unfortunately, the compound was yet unperfected for humanoid biology. Its side effects include hallucinations, paranoia and eventually - total system failure. However, I believe that its main purpose was to subdue someone of our unique physiology."

_ They didn't want to kill me. _

_ This was poorly engineered to keep me from leaving but not to kill me. _

"Is Heretic on that planet, colonel?" he asked. 

She almost shivered but remained still, keeping her expression politely blank.

"Unfortunately, yes. It is, sir," she said. "Our intelligence was correct. J-311 is the Tressacks' main base."

Anna could see the Bishop’s eyes light up but she only stared at him, unwilling to react similarly. She knew he wouldn't be happy for long. She took a deep breath and forced her next words out.

"Sir, Gaines is alive."

Although Bishop did not move nor his expression change, Anna could read the sudden fury lying underneath his calm exterior. He leaned forward and she saw his jaw tense and relax. 

"I see," he said. 

Unsaid words hung between them.

"Captain Kirk refuses to allow me to continue my mission. He believes that if I go planet-side now, I won’t survive," she said. She paused. "He does not want to waste his ship's resources for a return mission. I will not ask for back up from his crew."

Bishop said nothing but his pale eyes bore into her.

"To extend, I believe he's right. I can't accomplish what we need to alone. I'd like to return to J-311. I request permission to continue with my original mission but with additional back up due to the new circumstances," she continued "Because of several blood transfusions needed during surgery, Trig and I will both need additional medical support along with new suits and weapons."

"Colonel, you do understand what this means," he said. She noticed he ignored her request. "And the implications of Gaines’ survival."

"I ran the probabilities myself, sir," she said. "I'm fully aware of the consequences."

"Are you?" he asked. "The parameters have changed with Heretic. I am sure you understand what I mean."

Anna felt cold as his words sank in.

_Your mission has changed._

_Are you prepared to do what needs to be done?_

She paused and then nodded.

"My new orders, based on our findings, are to execute and proceed with a code three operation, sir," she said, almost stiffly. "Tabernacle was built for these types of operations.” 

"I don't doubt you understand the impact and importance of this mission," Bishop said. His gaze grew soft again as he regarded her. "But I would understand if you chose not to continue. This situation-"

"You wanted the best team and I have it," she said. She rarely interrupted the general but she had to convince him, to waylay any doubts he had about her immediately. "I have the best team, sir. With all due respect, I've not once failed to uphold an objective of a mission and I don't plan to begin now. I want to go back there, with them."

"This operation is one that _ must _ succeed. At any and all costs."

"By any means necessary," she finished for him and he leaned back, maintaining eye contact. "I understand this, sir. And I know what will happen if I don't succeed."

Bishop studied her for a long moment before speaking again.

"You nearly died, Colonel Demerin.” Anna winced inside; she heard the accusation in his voice.

_ You failed this time. _

_ Why should I let you return? _

"Sir, they were expecting us. It was an ambush."

_Because of Daniel. _

Bishop narrowed his eyes. "And I suppose you’ll be better prepared next time despite the Tressacks knowing you’ll come back?”

His voice was deceptively mild but Anna knew better than to react with bluster or any sort of false bravado. She'd witnessed more experienced officers fall into that trap; acknowledging her initial failure was necessary. 

“They’ll expect us to come back. They’ll expect Tabernacle. They'll expect me to be compromised. They won’t expect a code three. They won't expect us not to negotiate. And Trig and I were able to leave behind a few surprises in the off-chance we needed to return.”

He remained silent for another long moment before nodding once. 

If Anna had been alone she would have sighed with relief.

"Thank you, sir."

"I should warn you, I noticed activity outside of Church last night," Bishop said. Anna tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. Church was the codename of the FI personnel database. It had been Bishop's brainchild and he took particular pride in it. It had layers upon layers of security and access checks; even the best security workers could not breach Church.

The FI would know- they had the best create it in the first place. Every other week it was updated and relocated within their network. Any outsiders trying to gain access to Church would be caught, without fail.

"I see," she said. "Locals, I take it?”

Bishop nodded and Anna smiled slightly. Someone on the ship, someone part of the Enterprise's young crew, was trying to gain access to her file. She thought for a moment, considering.

"Perhaps we should allow them entrance," Anna said, after a short pause. "There shouldn’t be any harm in seeing the relics.”

_ I'm fine with letting them see my general information and psych eval. Anything more and we go after them. _

"You're feeling kind today, I take it," Bishop said dryly.

"Well, I'd like the favor returned," Anna said, keeping her face straight. "Think you can manage it, sir?"

Bishop grinned suddenly, baring his teeth again. He looked like a shark, poised to attack.

"Do you have safe passage?" he asked. He was asking if she had access to a secure link and she nodded. She had already tinkered with the device that McCoy had given her and manually changed the security settings so that no one in the ship's network, not even its captain, could see what she was doing. She almost dared them to take it away from her- she had coded a self destruct fail safe in the PADD. Without her access codes, it would wipe itself clean.

"It will be yours within the hour," he said. "I'm assuming you'll want to see the Preacher's dossier?"

"And all his attendants, if it's possible," she said.

_ Fair trade. I get the captain’s files and those of his senior crew. _

Bishop laughed. "Consider it done.”

"Thank you, sir."

"You're quite welcome," he said. His face grew serious again and Anna felt herself tense. She could only guess at what was coming next. “About Captain Kirk. Will he be a problem for you?”

“No, sir,” she said evenly. “As long as Starfleet agrees to comply with our requests, then I see no problem with remaining on this ship under his command.”

Bishop regarded her closely and she felt uncomfortably exposed. But she trusted him, had trusted him since the first day he came and met with her to discuss a future with the Federation Intelligence. He had guided her throughout her cadet education and had gotten her choice assignments throughout her career. He had become like a second father and she knew she was fortunate to have him on her side.

"I remember him," he said, after a moment. She tried to keep the surprise from showing on her face though her fingers curled into fists. "I was also aware of how deep your relationship with him ran."

Anna lifted her chin, keeping her expression neutral. “Oh?”

"You were both being shadowed by the FI back then, Anna," he said, not unkindly. "But we decided to approach only one person. There was never any doubt that it would be you."

Bishop did nothing without motive. Anna understood that Bishop had his own reasons for dropping that particular piece of information on her at that moment, but she could not help but be confused. Jim, or Jimmy as she remembered him, had been the extrovert. The brash, loud, mouthy troublemaker with the genius IQ and talent for strategy and deception, even as a teenager. She had just been his quiet sidekick. Equally as smart but not nearly as noticeable.

Or so she thought back then.

Anna tried not to think about their former friendship. She had tried to forget her life in Iowa and she had done a fairly good job of it for more than a decade. To try and revisit old feelings and memories, the guilt she felt in those early years, especially _now _ when everything depended on her being focused could only lead to folly. She could examine her past later, when the future was more secure. She owed Jim an apology but she could not let herself be dragged down by the past_. _ Not now.

She straightened her stance and took a deep breath. She had an operation to run, one that carried a great burden and even greater risk. 

"You remember the three main recruitment requirements?" Bishop went on. "He met only one."

She nodded. The three main requirements covered the main areas that the FI felt were most important in their officers: physical endurance, psychological balance and the authority factor. The FI were an elite, secretive force but they were also hierarchical - you needed to have the disposition to be able to follow superiors and to be loyal to your fellow officers, while staying true to the mission at hand.

Anna knew that Jim, for all his brilliance, could have never passed the last two requirements. Not back then, at least. There were many other determinants involved in the recruitment process, up to and including genetic factors, but those were the main three. If a potential recruit could not meet the standards set out for those three things, then they were rejected from consideration.

Most of the time, they didn't even know they were being considered.

"He's done well in Starfleet," Bishop said, still watching her carefully. "It's his place."

"And the FI is mine," Anna said without hesitation. This seemed to satisfy him and he nodded.

"Formal permission to continue the mission is granted. I'll take care of Starfleet and Kirk. Send me the coordinates of the nearest star base and I'll make sure your team members and additional gear are there," he said. Then his gaze became critical as he studied her body. "And I'll also make sure FI med supplies are sent."

Anna almost smiled. "I'm assuming that Ven will be part of the med package?" 

"Yes, colonel, I'll make sure your favorite doctor is there," he grumbled, but she knew he was teasing her.

"Thank you, sir," she said quietly.

"I hope they're showing the appropriate level of respect," Bishop said. His expression grew dark. "I've had quite enough of dealing with their petty complaints and I am more than prepared to handle any sort of misstep on their end at this juncture. This mission is too important to have you and your team relegated to a corner. Just give me the word, colonel." 

"I've been treated with the utmost respect befitting another officer," she said. She thought about her verbal altercation with Jim earlier but didn't let it show. By the look on Bishop’s face, he clearly did not believe her but he let it go.

"Permission to end transmission, sir," she asked, after a short silence.

"Granted," he said. He nodded once. "You’ll have your people soon. Watch your back in the meantime."

"Yes, sir."

###

"She's a colonel?" Jim exclaimed, leaning both palms on the conference table in front of him.

He was with Spock in the senior officers' meeting room and had just reviewed the conversation between Anna and General Bishop. Uhura had been able to set up a communications transmission between the two FI officers but had redirected the feed so that it went through the captain's own link first. It was one way to secure the original transmission, protecting it from outside sources, but also a way to loop in the captain without either party knowing.

Even though they had front row seats to the discussion that had just taken place, none of it had shed light on the current situation.

"Dammit, why didn't she say so in the first place?"

Spock watched as Jim stood up straight and began pacing, with his arms behind his back. He said nothing for a moment, merely observed the tense figure in front of him. Finally, when Jim seemed to lose himself in his thoughts, Spock spoke.

"Captain, perhaps if you had asked."

"Bishop wouldn't even give us her name until I told him I knew her," Jim said. "I doubt that she would have freely given me her rank if I had asked."

Jim looked at Spock and shook his head. "We’re equals, Spock," he said. "And you and I both know that stealth missions force rank. If she wanted to, she could have easily called out her title and her clearance codes and I would have had to let her go back. But she didn't. She felt that protecting her title was more important."

"I disagree, captain. She thanked Doctor McCoy for helping her," Spock said, in his steady, calm way. "It's clear she respects his title. And, as you said from your interaction yesterday, she respects your office as well. Though Federation Intelligence officers do not relinquish information freely, I believe that Colonel Demerin may not have wanted to interfere with your command."

Jim stared at him. Spock continued.

"You stated your reason for denying her request to return to J-311 as one of safety, for her welfare and for those aboard the ship. As a commanding officer, she would have understood your motivations and decided that the risk she was willing to take on her own was outweighed by the consequences you would have to face."

"I didn't realize you were running a psychological analysis, Spock," Jim said slowly. Spock ignored his comment.

"Captain, she was your former acquaintance," he went on. "This is merely a hypothesis based on observations taken from you and Doctor McCoy. Since you have a previous relationship with the colonel, you would know best as to her motivations."

"That's just it," Jim said. "I don't know her, not anymore anyway."

He sighed heavily and pulled out a chair, almost throwing himself down in it. Spock saw that his expression was troubled. Jim rubbed at his eyes and looked down at the table.

"She literally disappeared overnight," he said, more to himself than to Spock. "One day, she was there and the next… Gone. Even her parents were gone. I remember seeing their house - just empty and devoid of life. It was like they had never been there."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I dropped out of school. I just didn't fit anywhere anymore. I spent years looking for her. Of course I didn't know about the Federation Intelligence. It's how they operate, right? '_Under cover of dark_.' But I didn't know that back then. I thought something bad had happened. I thought I had done something to make them go away… I just…"

Jim looked up and shook his head. His expression twisted in confusion.

"She was the only real friend I had. I mean, that sounds pathetic but I didn't exactly have the best time of it growing up. Her and her family were the only ones…"

He trailed off.

"But we were both trailed back then," Jim said finally. His voice was thick with bitterness. "According to Bishop, the FI considered us both and they went with her instead of me. It had to have been her choice to leave. She left me. I thought…"

Jim fell silent again.

Spock looked at him and cleared his throat.

"By her account, Colonel Demerin plans to remain on the ship until we reach the nearest star base," Spock said. Jim looked back at him and saw that Spock's black eyes were almost kind as he regarded him. "I expect that she will make a formal request soon. The nearest star base is some distance away. You will have time to speak with her about nonofficial business."

Jim looked at his first officer with no little surprise.

"Did you just give me personal advice, commander?" he asked. The corners of his mouth twitched.

Spock looked pained. "I was only trying to direct you to the most logical path to a solution," he said.

Jim grinned and sat up.

"Thanks," he said and Spock nodded, straightening his shoulders. Jim's face grew serious and he tapped his fingers on the table.

"Now, what do you think Heretic and Tabernacle are? And what's with that church business?"

###


	5. Interlude: Separation

General M.H. Bishop leaned back in his chair after closing the comms link. In the stillness of his empty office, he closed his eyes and replayed the conversation he’d just had in his mind.

_ She’ll need every advantage she can get. _

He knew he had to move quickly, to begin organizing resources and though he could have easily delegated the work to a subordinate, he promised Anna he would take on this business personally. He was not a man who broke promises, especially to an officer who rarely asked for anything. 

Especially when it had to do with Tabernacle. 

But still. He could allow himself a small break before the impending chaos began. 

Bishop looked over at the PADD next to his elbow and picked it up.

_ Starfleet Personnel file: Security level: HIGH _

_ James Tiberius Kirk, Captain _

He enjoyed few luxuries. He didn't drink alcohol, didn't overeat, continued to push himself to his own physical limitations despite his age - but on occasion he allowed himself to remember the past, events that had brought great joy and happiness. Successes and triumphs.

Bishop considered the separation of Anna Demerin and Jim Kirk to be one of his great accomplishments.

His pale eyes glanced quickly at the other PADD on his desk, set to Anna's personnel file and he permitted himself to smile slightly.

She had been an extraordinary cadet, even at seventeen. She was brighter, faster, better adapted to most covert field operations than many seasoned officers twice her age. While she lacked brute force and physicality, she was a natural at stealth and silence and years of fine tuning her skills and body made her nearly untouchable. All she needed was a push, a chance to step out from under the thorny shadow that had been Jim Kirk.

Bishop leaned back and read thoughtfully through Kirk's file but he was remembering a time thirteen years ago, back to the first time he had been sent to recruit the boy. He remembered feeling excitement at the chance to choose a new Federation Intelligence recruit. It was a special assignment, a task that was taken very seriously. After all, the highly selective group prided itself on having the best officers and setting the highest standards.

The basic description his superiors had given him of the Kirk boy seemed perfect. He was highly intelligent - often surpassing the limitations of testing, had a high tolerance for physical pain even though he was only eighteen, and had a heroic father and a dedicated Starfleet officer for a mother.

What Bishop found instead, after only a week of surveillance and information gathering, was that Jim Kirk was a mess. The boy was a genius, there was no doubt. His college entrance scores at sixteen proved that, but he was also belligerent, uncontrollable and had an extreme aversion to authority. 

That last point in particular was something the FI would not tolerate.

Of course, they didn't want a drone. They needed officers who could think fast, independent of orders and superiors, but they also wanted people who wouldn't throw a punch at the first command given. They wanted recruits who could control themselves - their reactions and behavior, in extreme situations.

Jim Kirk lacked that crucial quality. He was a waste of talent and he had serious abandonment issues that Bishop did not think the FI psychoanalysts could overcome.

Kirk's best friend, on the other hand.

Bishop could not fail to notice the girl that Kirk always seemed to be around. She was younger, though tall for her age and she was with the Kirk boy almost everywhere he went. It wasn't long before Bishop had decided to create a second surveillance line for Anna Demerin.

What he found surprised him. Anna Demerin was only about a year younger than Kirk, but they were both in the same advanced classes at the local university. Her test scores were just as high and she seemed to show the same creative thinking that he displayed, just with less bravado. Though lacking Kirk's strength and aggression, Anna was graceful and moved with perfect balance. 

The FI could work with that. There were enhancements they could provide to a weaker body.

It was her high school records that had impressed Bishop the most, despite the fact that almost all her past teachers commented on the co-dependent relationship she had with Kirk. They felt that her friendship with the boy, his seeming dominance over the quiet, introverted girl would stifle her personal growth. During their junior year, when school officials had threatened to separate the two teenagers, splitting up their schedules and ensuring that no contact be made between them, Jim had caused a ruckus, destroying school property and physically threatening his teachers.

Anna, on the other hand, had acted in an outwardly respectful manner. She voiced a polite disapproval of the action in the form of a letter and had gotten her parents to speak on Jim's behalf.

But-

It was Anna who had hacked into the school files and set in motion a scandal that had led to the dismissal of the officials in question. 

She had been fourteen at the time.

Of course, no one knew Anna had done anything but Bishop's trained eye could see the sloppy trail of clues the teenager left behind in the school's network. She had her quirks, Bishop could see that, but she hid them well for her age.

It was this loyalty, combined with the talent for subtle techniques, that made Bishop determined to bring her to the FI. 

It wasn't long before he began a second formal recruitment process.

He knew he had to tread carefully. Anna's home life was happy and stable and her parents doted on Kirk. Kirk's own home was chaotic- abusive stepfather, runaway brother, absent mother. He naturally gravitated towards Anna's family. He often had dinner with them and seemed nearly part of the family.

However, Bishop could see that Anna's mother, an accomplished scientist of no small renown, was perhaps less fond of the boy than she let on. There was always that small wrinkle in her brow when she watched her only daughter go out with the unpredictable young man.

Anna herself would be difficult to overcome.

From his observations of the girl, she truly cared for Kirk and tried to direct him to less destructive paths. She was dependent on him but he was equally as attached to her. Anna acted as the grounding force in Kirk's day-to-day life. Bishop could see that the boy would quickly spiral out of control if it hadn't been for Anna's influence.

To his credit, Kirk seemed to genuinely love Anna as well. He was the one who pushed her boundaries, forced her to excel in fields outside of her comfort zones. He goaded and prodded and teased until she succeeded, or even surpassed him. He was wilder, louder and prone to outbursts- and for some reason this behavior seemed to draw the best out of Anna.

They worked well together, against all odds they just fit … except Bishop could detect a hint of something more there than simple protectiveness. The Kirk boy was possessive though thankfully not controlling and Bishop could see the beginnings of a possible relationship, one beyond friendship, starting to build.

_ A lingering touch, a soft smile, a meaningful glance. _

As the days and weeks passed, the signs were there and once it happened, Bishop knew he would not be able to take Anna away from Kirk's influence. It was a shame though; they did make a striking pair. They were opposites of each other: Kirk with his golden hair and bright blue eyes and rakish grin. If it weren't for his destructive streak, he could have been the prototypical hero, the handsome knight in shining armor.

He could have been the perfect FI officer. They both could have stayed together. 

_ Such a waste_.

Anna was his perfect contrast. Pale, with black hair and large gray eyes, there was a stillness about her that became more acute next to Kirk's wild, active energy. On her own, she was shy around people but with Kirk, she seemed to light up. She smiled and laughed freely, spoke more without prompting. 

Bishop knew he had to work with surgical precision in order to cut Kirk out of her life. There was simply no room for him in the FI, but Bishop was sure Anna would thrive under their care.

He started with her parents.

_ “Your daughter has potential. But you both already knew that.” _

They were skeptical of the Federation Intelligence, of course. Most civilians had never heard of the group and the ones who had were misinformed. Their fears seemed to subside once Bishop had offered to give them a tour of their facilities in San Francisco. The one point he knew would stick, the one point he kept returning to was the threat of a wasted future.

"She's an extraordinarily bright girl," Bishop had said. Anna's mother smiled with pride and her father had beamed. "She can do great things - will be able to do great things and we want to help her. I'm sure you want more for your daughter than a small life here in Iowa. What a shame it would be if she were to get married in a few years and never leave this town."

_ She will end up with that Kirk boy and you know it. She'll be stuck. He won't let her go. _

_ She'll waste her life on him, on this place. _

_ Is that what you want? _

"She's safe here," Anna's father had said. "This is her home."

But Bishop had seen the look in Anna's mother's eyes when he spoke about adventure in the stars. She loved her daughter, wanted the best for her only child and it broke her heart to think that she might end up in the backwater town of Riverside. Her mother was a scientist that dealt with disease and danger everyday; she had chosen her quiet life but wanted more for Anna. Bishop knew that to her, danger was preferable, an acceptable risk, to a life spent wasted.

Bishop didn't talk about Kirk but he knew Anna's parents, especially her mother, were thinking about him all the same.

He knew they had been convinced when they asked how soon they could visit the Federation Academy.

Anna, smart as she was, was still in many ways a child. It was clear to Bishop, the first time they had spoken, that she wanted a new life, wanted excitement and new challenges. The only barrier he really had to get through was her connection to Kirk.

He called her in to her advisor's office one day while Kirk had class- it seemed the safest bet. If Bishop had tried to approach her at home or alone outside of the safety of school property, then she would have told Kirk and his efforts would have gone to waste. 

Instead, amidst the familiar yet sterile sights and sounds of her advisor's office, he could talk to Anna in a safe place.

"I'm not interested," she said instantly, once Bishop had told her about the FI. She seemed startled by the mere suggestion; her face was an open book. "I can't leave. My life is here. My family is here. This is where I belong."

"Oh?" Bishop had responded. He smiled a friendly smile, not using the grin he usually flashed at other officers. "Anna, I want you to take a moment and think about the rest of your life. It's a big decision, I know, but you're only going to have this opportunity once. I know that you were thinking about joining Starfleet-"

"How did you know that?"

"-but that you changed your mind. I wonder why," Bishop said mildly. He had watched the girl's face and saw a fleeting expression of wistfulness before she looked away.

"You could be great in Starfleet but you could be even greater with the Federation Intelligence. You can pursue a life on the field and travel to unexplored planets or if you want, you can be a science officer and conduct research projects beyond anything you can imagine now. We also have a command program. You could lead a team on operations that could potentially benefit the human race, if not the Federation itself."

_ You can be the hero, for once. You can be a leader. _

Anna seemed lost in her thoughts then and Bishop had leaned forward, putting his elbows on the professor's small desk. Her face still held a hint of baby fat in her cheeks, despite her long limbs and height. It was clear she had just gone through a growth spurt.

She had looked so painfully young then. Anna was an astonishingly pretty girl but she seemed to lack something in her youth. There was an unfinished quality about her. Bishop knew that in a few years, with experience and age, she would become a formidable force of nature. Unstoppable and indomitable as every single FI officer was rebuilt to become. 

But only if she had room to truly grow.

"This is your life, it's your decision. The Federation Intelligence only offers placement to a select few each year - this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It's okay to be selfish, Anna. No one else can make this choice for you. This is yours and yours alone."

_ You have a chance to be great. _

_ All you have to do is leave him. _

And that had sealed the deal. Bishop had given her something of her own - something that she hadn't had to share with Jim Kirk and a chance to be an individual.

He had seen a spark in her eyes at his words, a hint of excitement in her face and he could see that she was already re-imagining her future. One that didn't involve tagging along to anyone else's plans.

In that brief moment, he had seen the woman she would grow into and the officer she could be.

"You're turning seventeen soon, is that right?" he asked gently. She nodded, still mulling over his words.

"In two months," she said.

"Think about it, Anna," he said, passing a card across the table. It was simple: it only had his name and his comms against a stark white background. She looked at the card but didn't pick it up. "In two months, I want you to contact me and let me know either way what you want to do. Regardless of whether or not you join the FI, I want to make sure _ you _ get to do what you want to do. You are under no obligation to anyone, do you understand me?"

Bishop knew he had won when she picked up the card, considered it thoughtfully, and placed it in her bag.

Further surveillance that week proved that Anna could keep a secret. As far as Bishop could tell, she hadn't confided in Kirk; it was perhaps the first time he hadn't been a part of her decision-making process.

A week after her seventeenth birthday, after a lengthy discussion with Anna, Bishop had ordered the relocation of the Demerin family to California under cover of night. Jim Kirk had been effectively cut out of their lives.

It was still a moment the general relished.

But now Kirk was back in, by some sort of awful providence, it seemed.

It was horrible timing. With so much riding on Anna's shoulders and her current mission, there was no room for distractions. Bishop was usually a very careful man but when contact between Anna, Trig and the FI had been cut while they were investigating the possible Tressacks base, he felt forced to direct Starfleet on a rescue operation. 

Fearing the worst, Bishop had not wanted to hail Starfleet but he knew it was necessary. Starfleet's Commander-in-Chief knew about Heretic and what Anna had set out to do. He was the one to personally direct Admiral Pike to hail the Enterprise, the nearest vessel where J-311 was located.

Anna and Trig had been too far out in the Gamma quadrant for immediate FI assistance and Bishop could not, would not, risk their lives, even if Jim Kirk was captain of the rescue ship. Bishop knew that their deaths could mean the deaths of entire species. Countless, untold numbers of souls lay in her hands. 

They were never meant to come across each other again. There was never any future reunion in the cards for them. 

With the weight of all the worlds on her shoulders, Bishop knew that Anna had to be near her breaking point. She never failed, it was true, but seeing her in her dark quarters on the Enterprise, her pale face still battered and healing, the amount of weight she had lost and the hollow, tired look in her eyes… 

No one else may have been able to notice, Anna was master of herself, but Bishop could see that she was exhausted. Drained. He was tempted to replace her with a new team lead.

She had lied to him and they both knew it. She was so emotionally entangled that Bishop feared for her. He didn't doubt that she would carry through her orders as best she could - she never faltered in her missions, but he was worried.

But Anna was also right. She was the best lead they had and her team, handpicked, was the best team FI had to offer. If anyone could succeed with this mission, despite all the odds, it was Anna.

The halo shape of their communicators was based on an ancient phrase: Beati Pacifici.

_ Blessed are the peacemakers. _

Contrary to what everyone else in Starfleet seemed to believe, FI officers were not heartless assassins or mindless killers. They simply excelled at finding and keeping secrets. They were better trained at hiding the damage to themselves. They knew that peacekeeping involved more than words. It required force and sometimes required death on a grand scale that the numbers became mere statistics.

They did what Starfleet was too weak to do.

_ That little bastard Daniel is alive. _

Bishop clenched his jaw, containing his rage in one small movement.

If Anna managed to get Daniel out alive, if she managed to bring him back before the FI and Bishop and keep his blood off her hands, then he would be handled. Bishop would personally see to it.

_ Code Three: To neutralize any and all life forms as directed, with no prejudice. _

As General Bishop turned off the PADD in front of him and went back to work, he pondered on the irony of his peacekeepers as executioners.

###


	6. A New Friend. A Shared Meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's so much easier to edit my work (compared to writing from scratch), I'm cranking these chapters out super fast. Hopefully folks out there are finding at least a modicum of enjoyment from this guilty-pleasure fic!

The little girl was throwing rocks at a yellow ball stuck in the crook of a branch.

James Tiberius Kirk, as he liked to proclaim himself (loudly and with great alacrity) watched from the edge of his fence as the girl threw rocks at the ball in the tree. She had just moved in next door and he had watched the weekend prior as her mom and her dad (he could only assume they were her parents but it made sense) navigated large green transport containers into the house.

Jim, as his mom and step-dad called him, had been disappointed that the girl next door hadn't been a boy. He didn't have many friends at school; at eight, he was younger than most of his classmates and knew that he was smarter than most of them. His older brother Sam was gone, gone away and so was his mother. And his step-dad didn't pay much attention to him (he actually preferred this). He had been hoping for a new playmate.

Maybe someone who would share toys with him and share the blame when he got in trouble.

That would have been nice.

Instead, it had been a girl that moved in. There was nothing wrong with girls but they didn’t really play with boys like him. She looked younger than him; she was smaller anyway, and she wore a pale blue dress with a white ribbon tied around her waist. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail that bounced each time she threw a rock.

James considered for a moment as he watched her.

She had pretty good aim, actually. 

After about fifteen minutes and trying different types of objects and angles, she gave up and sat down on the grass in her front lawn, rubbing her shoulder. 

She didn't cry, didn't run into her house and ask her mom and dad to help her. Just sat on the grass and looked up at the ball. Her face was scrunched up in thought and James could tell she was trying to solve the problem of how to get the ball down from the tree.

James leaned on the fence and decided to think of a way to help her. He liked that she didn't cry like the other kids at school when they didn't get their way. Liked that she was thinking first and didn't ask for help from her parents. Just like him.

Finally he made his way toward her.

"I'm James Tiberius Kirk," he said proudly. He held out his hand like he had seen his mom do when she greeted other grown ups. The girl got to her feet carefully, smoothed out her dress and shook his hand cautiously.

Her hand was much smaller than his. He bet her bones were thinner and would break more easily than his - he knew a lot about breaking bones. He broke a lot of his own. His doctor had said he was accident prone. His mother said he was reckless. His step-dad said he was a waste of space. But James knew that he just liked to have fun... Though the kind of fun he liked to have often meant that he would be in pain at the end of the day.

"I'm Anna," she said. Her voice was quieter and she looked briefly into his face before staring at her feet. He stared at her feet too; she wore white shoes. He wondered what was so special about them that she couldn't look up at him.

“Why don’t you climb the tree?” he asked.

She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know how yet. And I’m not supposed to get my dress dirty.” 

James considered that then said, "The rocks you're throwing are too small! They won't get your ball out of the tree."

She shrugged.

"Bigger rocks are too heavy," she said. She looked up at the tree then and her large gray eyes were mournful. He liked her eyes. His eyes were blue. He didn't like brown eyes because his step-dad had brown eyes. Amy Smith at school had green eyes and those were nice too. But gray eyes were _ cool._

He decided he liked Anna then.

"I can throw heavier rocks!" James exclaimed, running around in a circle around her before starting to pick out bigger rocks from the sidewalk, running back and forth to where she stood on the grass with his typical gusto. He liked to run.

Running was fun. Except when he fell. Or when someone pushed him.

Anna only watched him at first but a smile began to form on her face when he started to throw the bigger rocks at the ball. They could both see that it was working. With each rock thrown the ball began to move out of the crook of the branch. He didn't even mind that his arms began to grow tired. 

She was smiling at him.

_ Four, five, six! _

And the ball bounced on to the lawn.

Anna made a sound of joy and she ran towards the ball, clutching it to her chest with glee. James watched as she threw it up in the air and caught it, twirling around so that her skirt belled out around her.

James was sure she was going to run back into her house with her mom and dad inside and leave him behind. To his surprise though, she turned back to him and said, "Catch, Jimmy!"

James caught the ball and he grinned at her.

He decided that his name would be Jimmy from then on.

###

"Captain?"

Jim shook himself out of his reverie and glanced up at the officer standing in front of Ten Forward. The officer (_Michaels? Mitchell?) _ stepped aside deferentially and had been waiting for him to walk through the doors first.

"Captain, are you alright?" the officer asked. Jim blinked at him, pushing away the memory that had suddenly surfaced in his mind, unbidden.

Jim flashed him a grin and took a step forward. "Of course, Lieutenant Matthews," he said brightly. "Thank you."

The officer smiled back, pleased at his recognition, and stepped behind Jim as he made his way into the lounge and recreation area.

It was the end of the Beta shift and Jim had finished signing off on all the update reports for the day. Three or four times a week he liked to take on double shifts but today he was simply too keyed up to stay in one place.

He and Spock had been called into an urgent meeting with General Bishop who had given them orders, backed by Starfleet. The Enterprise was to head towards star base Gamma and collect four Federation Intelligence officers - Anna's field team. They were then to return to planet J-311 and transport Anna and her team back down to the surface. They were to wait until Anna gave the signal that their mission was over and then beam them back aboard.

They were not allowed to ask questions nor to speak of whatever they would witness during that time.

What happened next would fall to her. Jim had been explicitly instructed that to question her authority would be to question not only the FI but Starfleet itself. Jim knew he didn't have much of a reason to refuse the General. Their next big mission didn't begin for another month and it seemed that Starfleet fully supported whatever it was that the FI was up to.

Besides, Jim Kirk had his own reasons for wanting to keep an eye on Anna’s team for as long as possible. He didn't like the fact that he was being kept out of the loop on key information; that was something he would have to fix soon. The one thing he had learned during his early tenure as a Starfleet captain was that information was power and some people held on to even the most mundane fact like it was currency.

Jim was ambitious but not power hungry. He was content on the Enterprise but he knew in order to protect his crew and his position, he had to be just as quick to obtain knowledge as those above him.

Scotty promised Jim it would only take a day or two more to gain entry into Anna's FI personnel files. Hell, he had even gotten Chekov to work on it. They had already tracked down the location of her file within the FI's convoluted database; once they got through the security settings, Jim would have what he needed.

_ What is Heretic? Who is Daniel? What are the Tressacks up to? _

_ What are you doing, Anna? _

He stood near the doorway for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and watched his people. He felt a sense of pride as he watched his crew members laugh and enjoy each other's company. Jim had worked hard to cultivate and maintain the easy-going culture on the ship. His officers were dedicated to their work. Like him, most of them were young and smart and thrown into a situation that they perhaps weren't quite ready for. They were eager to prove themselves and often worked past their limitations. But each and every person aboard the Enterprise had shown admirable grace under pressure during the worst of times; he figured they were allowed to relax a bit during the best of times.

_ There. _

Jim stood up straighter and began to make his way towards the figure he had been looking for - she was dressed in all black, sitting in a corner booth away from the main group. He hadn't bothered to go back to his quarters to change before heading to the lounge. He hadn't wanted to admit, even to himself, that he would have liked a quick look at himself to make sure he looked presentable.

She sat near a screen, her general demeanor broadcasting a desire to remain solitary. A bowl of what looked to be vegetable soup lay on the table and though she held a spoon in her hand, it still looked clean.

In the shadows, the cuts and bruises on her face seemed almost gone and the corners of her lips were tilted up in the barest hint of an expression. He made his way over slowly, admiring the light from the stars and he could tell that she was engrossed in the view.

Jim was too.

"May I have this seat?" he asked, gesturing to the other side of the booth. Anna seemed reluctant as she slowly looked away from the vastness of space. Her expression was inscrutable as she looked up at him, devoid of the melancholy she displayed not a moment ago.

"Of course, captain," she said. She dipped her spoon in the soup and slowly stirred it.

"Any good?" Jim asked, nodded towards her bowl. He glanced around the room and smiled at a server, who began to make his way across the room.

Anna took a spoonful into her mouth and swallowed.

"Yes," she said, after a moment. She looked down and began to eat. For a moment, they sat in an awkward silence and when the server reached their booth and Jim gave his order, the silence returned.

Anna ate slowly and carefully, unhurried and seemingly uncaring about his study of her. Years ago, Jim knew that her cheeks would have been pink by now, flustered by any sort of attention paid to her. 

Now it seemed that she was indifferent to anything outside of her own thoughts - even to him.

"How are your quarters?" Jim asked. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, thank you.”

"I trust you slept well?"

"I did."

"You had some osteo-regeneration work done," Jim said, pushing harder. "I know how painful that is. I'm sure Bones, Dr. McCoy would be happy to give you something for the pain, if you-"

"I'm fine," she said abruptly, setting her spoon down. To his surprise, she lifted her napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth and then set it beside her half empty dish.

"It's been a pleasure, captain," she said, beginning to edge out from the booth. "If you'll excuse me-"

"Wait, don't!" Jim said, getting up himself. She didn't seem inclined to listen though and had already started to walk away when he reached out and grabbed her hand.

It happened in less than a blink of an eye. At his touch, she turned on her heel, moving so fluidly and quickly that she seemed like a blur. Jim felt his hand twist back, almost to the edge of true pain before he was released. Jim recoiled, jerking his hand back and staring up at her bewildered and shocked.

"What the hell?" He glanced around, making sure to keep his voice down. No one had seemed to notice the brief altercation but Anna's sharp gaze was scanning the room as if she were suddenly among hostiles. There was an edge in her expression that made some inner alarm ring inside him and he knew he needed to tread carefully now. 

"Hey, Anna, stop. Whatever it is you're thinking, you're safe," Jim said, reaching out again - slowly this time. "You're safe." 

Slowly, slowly... Anna turned back to Jim and the strange, wild look in her face seemed to melt away. She glanced at his hand and let out a soft breath, looking exhausted. 

"You're safe," he repeated. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" she asked but Jim shook his head and smiled, holding up his hand and turning his wrist in a circle.

"I'm fine but that's some grip, kid," he said lightly. He nodded at the seat across him. "I think you should sit down. Calm down a little. Get more food in you." 

Anna looked at him uncertain, though she did take a few steps back towards him.

"You could report that," she said in a low voice. "That was technically an attack on a commanding officer."

"Report what? A tap on the wrist? Not happening." Jim kept the smile on his face as he looked at her, trying to keep her from bolting. She was right - he could report the incident, but he recognized someone who was still far from recovering from an obviously brutal assault and near death experience.

"Listen, I know we didn't get off on the right foot the other day," he said, after he was sure she wouldn't bolt again. He put his hands on the table, palms up. "But I'm trying to rectify that. The truth is I'm a little thrown off by you being here. When I saw it was you we had beamed up and that you were injured…"

Jim trailed off, unable to describe the intense chaotic whirlwind of emotions he had felt that day. He looked away for a moment and took a breath. She said nothing in response, unmoving.

“I’m sorry for my behavior the other day,” he said finally. She studied him for a beat longer and then sat back down across from him, wary and watchful. Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly in relief. 

"Anna, it's been years since we last saw each other," Jim said. "That wasn't the way I thought I'd see you again. I wasn't even sure I would see you again. I just want to know what happened. Can you at least tell me that? I think I deserve at least some sort of explanation"

There was a long silence between them but Jim would not drop his gaze. 

"Explanation for what?" she said finally.

Jim blinked, incredulous.

"For disappearing overnight," he said, sitting up. He felt the first tendrils of anger heat his cheeks but he kept his voice down. "For not bothering to contact me all these years when you could have easily done so. You were probably in California at the same time I was. The FI Academy is only a shuttle away from Starfleet."

Anna looked away for a moment before responding. "I graduated when I was twenty and then I was sent off planet. I was told you entered Starfleet a year after."

"That's an excuse."

"It's the truth."

"So you had three additional years planet-side to let me know you were alive," he said, pushing. "But you didn't. Did our friendship mean that little to you?"

"I knew you'd be fine."

"You turned your back on me and didn't bother to find out what I was going through. Just washed your hands of our friendship and moved on."

"It wasn’t my intention to hurt you."

"It's like you just couldn't wait to take the first offer out of Riverside, away from the fuck up that I was."

"Stop it, Jimmy," she said sharply, her gray eyes narrowed as she looked back at him. "That wasn't what happened. Not everything was about you."

"But everything was about you," Jim said. He forced himself to stop and retrace his steps. This wasn't where he had intended to go when he first sought her out. He hadn't meant to start a fight with Anna but there was a lot of lingering resentment that he knew they had to deal with.

Not to mention the fact that she was obviously on edge and ready to lash out at even the slightest provocation.

Jim swallowed and forced himself to get back on track. She looked on edge, watching him carefully as if waiting for his next verbal attack. Her jaw was clenched and she sat forward, ready to continue fighting if she had to and-

It made him feel so old and so worn out. Physical fighting was one thing but this kind of struggle took more out of him than he had to give at the moment.

After hostility, there was only the truth.

"I know enough about the FI recruitment process to know that you had time to make the decision to join," he said, lowering his gaze. "You'd been planning to leave and you didn't tell me. We were friends. If it were me, if it was my choice, I would have never left you behind so I don't understand why you did."

For a moment, Anna tensed even more before seeming to deflate.

"We shouldn't have this conversation here," she muttered, lowering her eyes. Jim hesitated, then decided not to push further. They could continue down this path later, when he was more prepared and not prone to lashing out instinctively and when Anna wasn't on a knife's edge of reactions. Jim wanted answers; he needed to understand but it still hurt. He had matured over the years but seeing Anna again made him feel helpless and afraid. Something he did not want to feel ever again.

"You've been watching everyone around us this whole time," Jim said softly. "I'm willing to bet that you've mapped out everyone's location before you even sat down. You're paying attention to everything and we both know that no one is paying attention to us."

"You're the captain," she said evenly. "Everybody pays attention to you."

"Not right now, when there's no need to," Jim said. "No one hears a word we're saying. And you've done well enough not to draw attention to yourself, even after that display just now. If you didn't think you were safe we wouldn't still be here, would we, colonel?"

Anna looked up at him sharply.

"I take it you've spoken with Starfleet recently." She was changing the subject and he decided to let it go. It was a conversation they would have another day.

"And Federation Intelligence. I had another meeting with General Bishop earlier today," Jim said, nodding. "Looks like you got what you wanted."

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning we're headed to star base Gamma," Jim said. "Your team will be there for pick up by the time we arrive. It'll take us some time since we have a few side trips to take that I can't put off but it will be a shorter trip back to J-311."

Her relief was obvious and her entire body seemed to relax a little, an overall softening of her stance. "Good," she said. "Anything you can do to expedite the trip will help."

"The funny thing is," Jim said, staring into her eyes. "Everyone else seems to know what's going on - Starfleet, the admirals. Hell, I even saw the Commander-in-Chief's stamp on the order sent to my PADD. Your mission must be pretty important if all of those people are paying so close attention to it."

Anna was silent.

"Pushing aside our history; you're on my ship, Anna," Jim said. "I understand that I was ordered to help you with your mission by getting your team and making sure you get back to J-311. But I need you to understand - _ this is my ship and these are my people_. I need to know why I'm going out of my way to bring you and your team back out there when you barely survived your first encounter with the Tressacks."

"I'm not at liberty to disclose those details."

"You don't have to tell me anything," Jim said, leaning back, still keeping his gaze fixed on her face. "But I'm responsible for all these people you see right now and many more that you don't see. I need to know if there's something on that planet that can reach us and possibly harm us."

"As long as my team and I are the only ones to set foot on that planet, then no harm will come to this ship," she said firmly. "If there is even a possibility of that happening, I'll let you know."

"You can't even tell me the purpose of your mission?" Jim asked, frustrated.

Anna broke eye contact and looked towards the crowd of people in the recreation area. Her face seemed to grow hard, suddenly stern and angry, and she pressed her lips together tightly in a grim line. 

When she looked back at him, there was a strange mix of amusement and sadness in her eyes.

"Fine. Since you're so sure I owe you some sort of explanation," she said. "The future of the Federation depends on this mission. I cannot fail. I won’t be allowed to."

There was a taunting, almost bitter tone to her voice but underneath it, Jim could detect something else. Another emotion he couldn't quite articulate. In his gut though, he felt dread. 

"Sounds a bit dramatic but I believe you," he said seriously. "I want to help you, Anna."

"You already are helping me," she said. "It's no small thing, to have my team with me."

"I want to do more."

"There isn't anything more for you to do.”

He opened his mouth to respectfully disagree when Anna's gaze shifted and she tilted her head slightly, as if something in the air caught her attention. She sat up again and her face became relaxed and calm.

The change in her demeanor was so swift that Jim opened his mouth to ask what was wrong.

"Captain?"

Jim looked up, startled to see the server moving towards the booth with a plate of food. "Your meal is ready."

"Thank you," Jim said, as the server set his dish down on the table. He glanced up at Anna, who gave the waiter a blank look. It was as if they had been discussing the weather or other trivial matters. She gave nothing away.

"You're welcome, sir," he said before walking away. Jim looked down at his sandwich and fries and then gestured towards her. “Go for it.”

"What?"

"You used to like stealing my fries," he said, grabbing one himself. "You might as well get something to eat if we're going to keep arguing."

"I've eaten," she said, glancing at her cooling bowl of soup.

Jim snorted. "What, that?" he said. "You barely took two bites before you were ready to run away from me. Again."

He pushed the plate towards her again.

"Come on. I know you know you want some."

Anna hesitated, her frown growing deeper.

"I don't."

"You're lying. I can tell," he said. He grabbed a fry and popped it into his mouth, chewing. "I know you used to be addicted to these things."

To his surprise, she rolled her eyes. It was such a childish, uncharacteristic gesture that he almost laughed. Instead, he bit his lip and looked away briefly.

"If I were lying, you wouldn't know it," she said. "Besides, I had soup. It provided enough nutrition for my needs." 

"Only if you eat it. And you kinda didn’t," Jim cut in. He pushed the uneaten bowl of soup further away and pushed his own plate towards her. She glared at him for a moment but there wasn't much heat in the expression. He only stared back at her calmly, patiently.

He waited.

Finally, Anna huffed and took a fry, putting it in her mouth and chewing with unnecessary vehemence. Jim couldn't help it - she looked so much like a disgruntled child that he started to laugh, despite the fact that only moments before she'd been ready to break his arm. It was almost hysterical laughter, a little manic but it felt good. He covered his eyes and leaned back and laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days.

_ There's hope for us. _

Anna pressed her lips together in seeming disapproval but he could see the corners of her mouth tilt up slightly.

"Still as stubborn as ever," she muttered. "Doesn't it get exhausting, beating your head against a wall like that?"

Jim grinned at her and shrugged. He had a gut feeling that throwing her off would produce the most honest results; they were equals when he confronted her directly, when he evoked a negative emotional response or when he attacked her. But kindness, genuine teasing… That brought about something else.

He knew then that she did feel at least a modicum of guilt towards him. It was enough to know this. For now.

"Sure, as much as it is to go to the extreme opposite," he said pointedly. He waved a fry at her before popping it into his mouth. "You probably kill at poker."

Her mouth twitched again.

"Anyway, I was looking for you for a reason," he said, picking up half of his sandwich with one hand. "I was wondering if you'd like a tour of my ship. Since you're going to be here for about a week or so, I figured you should be introduced to the senior crew, at the very least."

Anna nodded and Jim pretended not to notice when she leaned in and took another fry from his plate. He hid his smile behind his sandwich and cleared his throat.

"Good. I'll send you a schedule later," he said. He moved to the side and reached into his side pocket with his free hand, pulling out a small device and placing it on the table. "Also, I wanted to give you this."

Anna looked down at the Starfleet communicator with a small look of surprise. She reached out and held it in her hand as Jim watched.

"If you wanted to reach me or Bones or anyone else on the ship, you won't have to rely on finding a comms station," Jim said.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. Jim ate his sandwich as she looked around at the people in the lounge, playing with the communicator in her hand. This time the silence was not awkward or tense. Yet even relaxed, there was an observant air about her, as if she were filing each and every detail away for later perusal.

Jim pushed his plate even closer towards her, breaking her out of her thoughts. Anna turned back towards him, bemused.

"It's too big for me to finish alone," he said. "Why don't you take the other half?"

"I really don't want-" she began but Jim shook his head, widening his eyes in exaggerated glee.

“Bacon. Real, honest to goodness bacon.”

He caught the slight hesitation and then she shook her head again. 

"Remember? I'm stubborn," he said.

"And I don’t want it," she said. "Believe me, I can take care of myself."

Jim shrugged. "Guess old habits die hard," he said softly.

Anna did not respond; instead she looked down at the communicator in her hands and then placed it on her sweater, doing so easily, as if she had done it hundreds of times before.

It didn't surprise Jim that she had pinned it on straight.

"It looks good on you," Jim said, after a moment. She snorted and looked past him, into the crowd. He tried to catch her eye again, just staring at her like she did with him, but she didn't even glance at him.

Jim put the remainder of his sandwich down and picked at his fries.

"The gold looks good on you," Anna said. "Being captain suits you."

He looked up and found her smiling at him; it was a small smile, just a slight quirk to the corners of her mouth, but genuine.

Jim was tempted to say something breezy, something a little flirtatious and teasing, but they were far from the point where they could be friends again and he was not the man he was ten, even five years ago. Too much had happened, he had seen too much to be that person anymore.

So he settled for a smile back and a nod. It would do until they could regain lost ground.

"Is your hand really okay?" she asked quietly. "No soreness or sharp pains when you move? I tried not to inflict any damage when I realized..."

Jim reached out and then paused, showing her his hand again. "I'm fine, Anna. You don't need to apologize. You've been through a lot and I know it wasn't intentional."

"It doesn't make it acceptable. But thank you." Anna sighed. "My reactions are a little... Too quick sometimes. I'm usually more in control of them."

Jim frowned, wondering at her words but before he could ask his own communicator beeped to life.

"McCoy to Kirk, please respond."

Jim tapped his communicator. "Kirk here. What's up, Bones?"

"Got any idea where that FI woman is? I tried her quarters but came up empty."

Jim looked up at Anna, who sat up, listening intently.

"Yeah, Bones, Anna's with me in Ten."

"The both of you need to come down here right now."

Before Jim could respond, Anna got to her feet and began walking away. He jumped out of the booth to follow her, suddenly feeling tense again.

The look on her face had been-

There was nothing there again. No worry, no anger, nothing to indicate what she was thinking or how she felt or anything. Just completely wiped clean of expression. He saw now it was a defensive measure, making it difficult for anyone to see what she was up to next.

"Anna, wait!" Jim said, quickly catching up to her as she made her way out past the doors. "Wait, we're going to medical together, dammit."

She glanced at him but did not slow her pace.

"You don't even know what's going on," Jim said, as they entered a turbolift. "I know Bones. He would have said if there was an emergency."

"I'm fairly certain I know why Dr. McCoy wanted us there," she said, stiffly.

"So you're psychic now too?" Jim said, as he pressed a button. 

"Trig is awake," she said, staring straight ahead, looking as if she wanted to burn holes through the doors with her eyes. Jim thought briefly about the man they had rescued along with Anna. He had been very tall, with pale blonde hair but Jim had only given him a cursory once over before he was handed off to McCoy's care.

"If that were true, then it would be a good thing," Jim said easily. Inside though he was frustrated; it would be harder to get Anna on her own now with her partner awake.

"Indeed it is," Anna said. The doors opened and she stepped out, moving so quickly that Jim had to fight to keep up with her.

"So what's the problem?" Jim asked. "I would think you'd be happy about this."

Anna shook her head and pressed her lips together before responding.

"Unfortunately, I doubt he'll be as agreeable as I was when I woke up."

###


	7. An Escape. A Trade.

McCoy began speaking even before Anna and Jim had walked across the threshold into the med bay. He looked flustered and a little angry but Jim couldn't detect anything that was cause for alarm.

"Your partner just woke up and broke my goddamn static chamber," McCoy said gruffly, leading them towards the isolation ward. "I was running scans on another patient when his vitals crashed so the room went into alert mode."

"But he didn't flatline," Anna said. McCoy glanced back at Anna and shook his head. Then the glower left his face.

"How are you feeling?" he demanded suddenly. "You look pale. Have you gotten enough rest?"

"I just came from a meal with the captain," Anna said firmly. She stared hard at Jim, daring him to contradict her but he didn't. She straightened, turning back to McCoy. "Where's my officer, doctor?"

The glower returned and McCoy jerked his head to the side, towards the isolation ward, and resumed walking.

"This way," he said. "And no, he didn't flatline."

They made their way past the sparsely populated medical bay and Jim could see Nurse Chapel look up at them curiously. Her gaze flickered to the door at the far end of the room and she shook her head with a small smile before returning to her task.

"Somehow the damn fool managed to override the chamber's locking mechanism before I could walk the thirty feet or so to his room and open it myself," McCoy said. "He nearly scared Chapel half to death. My staff thought he had crashed. Imagine our surprise to find him out of the chamber, half-naked, standing in a corner and demanding to know where he was and where you were."

"What's his current condition?" Anna asked. They reached the end of the room and stood in front of a closed door. McCoy punched in the code and the doors slid open. He gestured inside and threw Anna, and by extension Jim, an annoyed look.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he asked.

###

A tall man with a shock of almost white blonde hair sat on the edge of a bed; his long legs nearly reached the floor. He sat still and relaxed, his light blue eyes clear and alert as he looked towards the open doorway. A biosheet was pooled around his waist and he gripped the edges loosely in one hand.

Jim was behind Anna as she walked into the room so he caught the split second flash of relief when the man saw her.

But it was only there for a moment; when he saw Jim behind her there was only polite inquiry in his eyes. Nothing more.

_ I bet the FI has some sort of required course on Blank Expressions: How to Be Not Human, _Jim thought unkindly.

With a swiftness that made Jim pause, the man got to his feet, clutching the sheet at his waist and stood ramrod straight. He noted with some envy that the man was powerfully built, with a chiseled torso, slim waist, muscled arms and broad shoulders. Though he worked out regularly and kept himself healthy (despite the occasional burger or two) Jim knew that there was no way he could ever look like Anna's partner. He just didn't have the genetic disposition for it.

"At ease, Trig," Anna said sharply. She stopped only a couple of feet away from the bed and looked up at him, tilting her head to the side. The man let out a long breath and his shoulders fell a little as he relaxed.

Jim thought he detected a slight waver in the man's stance.

"It's good to see you, ma'am," he said. His voice was mellow and melodic though a bit scratchy with disuse.

"And it's good to see you," Anna said. Her expression softened slightly as she gestured. "You should sit down."

Trig did so slowly, making sure his sheet still covered him, and looked at Anna. There was something in the way he looked at her that made Jim's chest tighten. It was clear that Trig was a military man, there was no mistaking his bearing but he looked at Anna with such clear affection. 

Jim felt himself tense, watching them.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"I'm fine, ma'am," Trig said. "The good doctor there told me I was out for a few days but I feel fine now."

"No need for any formality," Anna said. She took a step forward, looking him up and down with a clinical eye. "I'm glad to hear you're feeling well."

"Thank you, ma'am," Trig said. He paused. "Anna."

She turned towards McCoy, who had stopped at Jim's side.

"Doctor, you mentioned something about a broken static chamber?" she said.

McCoy glared at Trig whose pale cheeks flushed. He looked at McCoy with what Jim thought was a sheepish expression.

_ He's embarrassed, I think. _

While they were nowhere near Vulcan-level stoicism, Jim was quickly learning that the FI had their own ways of expressing themselves. It was subtle and sometimes undetectable but it was there. A twitch of the lips, a slow blink or tilt of the head - their emotions were subject to their control and not the other way around.

It seemed to Jim that Trig was far more expressive than Anna, though not by much. He was easier to read than her, in any case.

"Your partner dismantled my chamber from the inside out instead of waiting for me to come open it for him," McCoy said. He pointed to a large object across the room with a deep frown. "I only have two chambers on this deck and now one is clearly out of commission until we can get a technician to fix it."

The static chamber was shaped like a long cylinder that opened in half lengthwise. The top half was made of shaded Vulcan glass, one of the toughest materials known within the Federation. When closed, the glass permitted only a one-way view: a doctor or a nurse could look into the chamber but the patient within would only see darkness. There was no need for concern regarding claustrophobia: patients that needed static chambers were usually heavily sedated or in a coma and needed an isolated, protective space to regenerate and recover.

The bottom half held a bed that conformed to and monitored whatever body lay within. Other monitoring devices and panels spanned the length of the chamber on the outside.

At first, Jim couldn’t detect anything wrong with the chamber and then something caught his attention. He walked over with Anna close behind to take a closer look.

A small panel on the inside of the chamber had been forcibly opened and several wires and metal pieces lay on the bed.

"I wasn't aware Federation Intelligence officers had night vision," McCoy said dryly. "How he managed to find that panel in the dark while coming out of sedation is beyond me. Unless there's something you'd like to share with me?"

"I apologize again, doctor," Trig said, ducking his head. Jim thought he looked like a kid who just received a scolding. "I can fix it, if you'll allow me to."

"Thanks for the offer but I don't want you anywhere near my equipment."

"We're trained to escape quickly from hostile situations, in the dark or in cramped spaces," Anna spoke up. She looked at McCoy. "Trig only did what he thought he had to do; after all, he woke up in an unfamiliar place. Nevertheless, I sincerely apologize for the state of your equipment, Doctor McCoy."

"Bones, I'm sure Scotty can take of the repairs," Jim said smoothly when McCoy scowled. "I'll get him on it now."

"I still want to know how he knew that panel was even there," McCoy said, shaking his head at Jim. He narrowed his eyes at Anna. "Most of my staff don't even know about the inside hinge lock in that chamber and I'm pretty sure the FI doesn't offer classes on structural medical equipment design specific to constitution-class starships. That chamber was built exclusively for C-class ships."

Jim watched as Anna looked at Trig and sighed. She nodded once at him and a small wrinkle formed on his brow. He looked confused for a moment and then his expression smoothed.

"I didn't know it was there," Trig said, after a short silence. "And I'm not familiar with static chamber designs. When I woke up, all I knew was that I was in a dark, confined space. I used my hands and feet to feel around me – that's when I found the panel outline. I popped it open using key pressure points since it was hollow, pulled out the wires and then felt around."

"My God, man, you could have electrocuted yourself!" McCoy exclaimed but Trig went on calmly.

"It was an acceptable risk, doctor. I could have been in hostile territory. All I knew was that I needed to escape. Anyway, I found the sliding joint with my finger and realized that the chamber used a Dorinian-style hinge," Trig said. "I pushed the sliding joint up and out and the chamber opened. I'm sorry I frightened your staff. I just wanted to find out where I was and if my CO was safe."

McCoy sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead with one hand tiredly.

"Fine, fine," he said, dropping his hand and looking at Anna. "That's around the time I called Jim. After this one stopped bellowing and calmed down enough to let me speak, I filled him in your status and location. I already did a preliminary scan but I want him to stay here for another hour or so to do a full physical."

"Yes, doctor, that should be fine," Anna said. Jim thought Trig was about to complain but Anna gave him a look that silenced him.

"Well, since that's settled," Anna said, turning towards Jim and gesturing towards Trig. "Captain, please allow me to introduce you to my security officer, Major Greger Halvar Jansen. Trig for short."

Jim took a step forward and held out his hand. Trig shook it with his free hand.

"And this is Captain James Kirk of the USS Enterprise," she said.

"Nice to meet you, captain," Trig said. "Thanks for beaming us up when you did. Doctor McCoy said you saved our lives."

"You're welcome. I'm only glad I could help," Jim said. He dropped his hand and looked at the man curiously. "Trig, huh? Childhood nickname?"

To his surprise Trig grinned, showing off a perfect, white smile. It made his face seem bright and open and Jim felt a sudden fount of jealousy bubble up inside.

Anna's partner was handsome, no doubt. He had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones and pale blue eyes that contrasted nicely with his light blonde hair and fair complexion. He was undeniably masculine; but there was a delicate prettiness to his features that balanced him.

Though his bed-hopping days were behind him, Jim could still tell when someone was attractive. He could admit he was vain but he was also self aware; Jim knew when someone else had a physical advantage over him. It had been fun, at one time, to get that competitive rush - see who got the most attention in one place. Like a game, he’d keep a mental tally as if someone were keeping score. 

But the feeling Jim suddenly felt towards Trig was something else, something _ meaner._

"Short for Trigger," he said easily. He looked at Anna and shrugged. "I'm good with weapons."

"Oh, now you're modest?" Anna said. Jim looked at her, a little shocked that she had made a joke. The shock deepened when she smiled widely - a true, sweet grin that Jim remembered from another lifetime. But this time, it was not directed at him.

"As I am ever," Trig responded, with a grin back.

"He's the best at what he does," Anna said, her expression growing serious again when she looked at Jim. "Weaponry, long range discharge and disarmament are his strong points. Sometimes I even forget what his real name is."

"I've been told that I do not look like a Greg," Trig said, in mock seriousness.

He coughed suddenly and shivered, pulling the sheet closely around him. Jim realized that Trig was unusually pale - he seemed to have a naturally fair complexion but there was something distinctly off about his color.

McCoy cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"I think my patient has had enough excitement for one day," he said, taking a step forward. He held out a tricorder and turned his back on Anna and Jim. Jim felt the strength of his dismissal as strongly and surely as a physical push. "I sure as hell have. After the tests are complete, I'll arrange to have quarters secured for him and then-"

"Captain, I request permission to have Trig placed as close as possible to my quarters," Anna said, interrupting McCoy.

Jim paused.

He knew that there was an empty room down the hall from Anna's room but he was reluctant to put the man there. At first glance her request seemed to work in his favor - he could keep an eye on the two FI agents from the hidden video system in the corridor. Though he hadn't put up visual surveillance for Anna's room, he did have trackers on her outgoing communications. He knew he had the right to any and all transmissions coming into and beaming from the ship; Jim drew the line at placing visuals within her room. It just seemed distasteful.

However, if Trig and Anna were placed in the same area, there was also the likelihood of losing the little control he had over them. Trig could easily move to and from her room and Jim would be forced to post surveillance in her quarters.

And he didn't know what to do with the uneasy feeling he had at the thought of Trig slipping into her room for anything other than FI business.

Still.

That was another matter for another time.

"I'll see if there are any available and arrange it," Jim said slowly.

He would think about it, maybe discuss it with Spock but he would not promise her anything outright though he had a feeling he would give into her request anyway. She had asked him without demanding. That meant something to Jim.

Anna seemed to catch his shift in mood. She seemed to study his face before turning back to Trig.

"Doctor," she said. "Please do let me know once Trig is released."

McCoy made a face but nodded. His eyes fell on the communicator she wore and he raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," he sighed and then dismissed them again with a wave of his hand. "And I trust that you _ will _ remember to come in for that follow-up appointment I made for you tomorrow. Now get out of here, both of you."

Jim began to move away but Anna ignored McCoy and walked over to Trig. She leaned forward and said something quietly in his ear; her voice was too soft to be heard by either McCoy or Jim.

Whatever she had said made the man sit up and nod. His face, which a moment ago had been relaxed and almost friendly, was suddenly devoid of expression. Jim felt that _ oddness _again, that sense of something passing between Anna and Trig that excluded himself and McCoy and everyone else.

She took a step back from Trig, looking satisfied.

"All clear?" Anna said.

Trig's pale eyes were clear of emotion but he suddenly frightened Jim. With Anna, the lack of expression was unsettling and creepy. Trig's eyes were devoid of anything _ human. _There was a cold watchfulness there but nothing more. It was like staring into a black hole personified.

_ Weapons expert. Security officer. Federation Intelligence. _

_ Nice euphemisms for a trained killer. _

Trig looked at Jim and then at McCoy with his chilly blue eyes, before turning back towards Anna.

"Yes, ma’am," Trig said. "We're clear."

"Good," she said and glanced at Jim. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

"I'll walk you there," Jim said. She paused, looking at Trig, and then walked out of the room without a glance back.

Jim followed her out.

###

"I can walk myself back," Anna said, as the doors to the medical bay slid shut behind them. She stopped walking and faced him. Jim studied her for a moment. She seemed distracted despite her seemingly calm façade. It might have been the angle of the light, but she suddenly looked just as pale and sickly as Trig had been towards the end.

"I know you can," Jim said.

"Then to what do I owe the courtesy, captain?" she said, crossing her arms across her chest. She seemed irritated but still distracted.

"Well, it would only be polite seeing as how you are a guest of the Enterprise," Jim said. He grinned. "And my quarters are right next to yours. It’s on the way."

Anna pressed her lips together then began walking towards the lifts.

"Wait," Jim said, putting his hand on her shoulder. She shook him off but remained in place. "Anna, what's with you now? I would think that knowing Trig is okay would have set your mind at ease but you're acting like-"

"Nothing is wrong with me," Anna said stiffly. She took a step back. "You don’t understand."

"You keep saying that but you won't even give me a chance to try," Jim said.

Instead of responding, Anna turned around and walked into the turbolift with Jim at her heels.

"Computer, deck nine," Anna said and the lift began to move.

"Computer, stop," Jim said.

The lift stopped.

"You should leave well enough alone," Anna said. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, I don't buy that," Jim said. He leaned in towards her, narrowing his eyes. She moved back at the sudden closeness and stared at him. "Do you feel okay, Anna? You don't look so good."

"Like the doctor said, I've had enough excitement for one day," she said. She took a step to the side, away from Jim. "I just need to rest."

"I agree," Jim said. He paused, looking at her face again. She _ was _paler than what could be considered healthy. He noticed for the first time that there were still dark circles under eyes. She looked more than simply tired. She looked nearly wiped out.

McCoy's medical report on Anna had been a fascinating read - even Spock had taken an interest. He remembered McCoy's words as he watched her:

"_ Patient has had an extremely quick recovery period despite the extent and depth of her injuries. There are as yet unclassifiable substances (designated: SubX - substance x), apart from the alien hallucinogenic (designated: FS1 - foreign substance 1) in her blood that will require further study and I have taken samples for this purpose. _

_ It may be that SubX is the cause for her shortened recuperation; however, she required various blood transfusions and one round with the hemopurifier to remove all traces of FS1. These procedures seemed to negatively affect the replication and self-healing properties of SubX. Patient also has an extremely high metabolism which has proven to combat heavy sedation. With these two factors combined, I suspect the potency and therefore the effect of SubX will be unsustainable in the long term." _

"Computer, resume," Jim said, not looking away from Anna. She seemed relieved and stared past him at the wall.

"If you weren't feeling well, you should have said something to McCoy. You've just been through significant trauma. Now is not the time to play martyr. Believe me, with the amount of injuries I've had, I would know."

Anna snorted. "Doctor McCoy can't help me. He's done well but he has limitations. What I need is my team and my own medical officer here."

"Should McCoy expect Trig to exhibit the same symptoms in a few days?" Jim asked. Anna's gaze was sharp as she looked at him. "Weak appetite, pale skin tone… Indicative of possible anemia? And growing lethargy. It's pretty clear to me you're not in the best of health and it's only been two full days since you've been discharged."

"I take it the good Doctor McCoy has already written up a detailed report on me." Anna’s voice was even but Jim could tell she was angry. It was a huge difference from his own reaction; he usually burned white hot when he was truly enraged.

Anna seemed to grow even more still and pale. "Tell me, Captain Kirk, has it been distributed among your science officers yet? Should I expect that the tissue samples I'm sure Doctor McCoy took from me and Trig are up for later study?"

"His reports are confidential and how do you know that he even took tissue samples? I don't make it a point to offer up guests for research purposes," Jim shot back. He was irritated that she would even suggest such a thing. "Only Spock and I have read it and quite frankly I think you're doing yourself a disservice by acting as if you're fine. You should learn to accept help when it's offered."

"I've told you. You _ can't _ help me," she said. "It's not refusal. It's a simple fact."

"Why not?" Jim asked. "What's so different about your physiology that one of the most highly regarded doctors in Starfleet couldn't possibly help you? You don't have robotic implants, no alien organs, no-"

"Classified information.”

The doors opened with a hiss of air and Anna practically sprinted away, moving down the hallway to her room. Jim noted that even weak, Anna could move with the speed and grace of a feline.

"Fine," Jim said, catching up with her. "I show you mine, you show me yours. Bones _ did _ take tissue samples but he won't do anything with them aside from study. He won't publish reports, he won't allow his staff to touch them, and he hasn't even labeled them. No one else knows about the samples. Bones just wants to help you and your partner get better. Trust me, Anna, you _ are _ safe on this ship."

"So safe that I don't have to worry about someone taking samples from me and my partner while we're incapacitated?" Anna said. They reached the door to her room and she punched in the code. "Excuse me when I say that doesn't sound very _ safe _ from where I'm standing."

"You know that he had to make sure that you were both cleared of that Tressack poison," Jim said firmly but he felt himself flush. She had a point but he knew McCoy had been in the right. "The only way he could do that was to-"

"I want those samples, Captain," Anna said, finally looking up at him. "Doctor McCoy released me and he's about to release Trig. He no longer has a need to study whatever samples he took from us. Keeping them would be a severe breach in privacy, not to mention a violation against Federation Intelligence and Starfleet regulations."

"And if you or Trig relapse?" Jim asked. "Bones'll need samples of your blood to compare against for future testing."

"We won't," Anna said firmly. "Believe me, we've both been through worse situations so I know how this plays out when Starfleet gets involved. I want those samples gone."

_ There's something not right here. She's angling for something else… _

_ What are you really saying? _

Jim said nothing for a moment and then Anna looked over to the side, at the far end of the corridor. There was a door to another room there, the one Jim knew was empty. It was a slow and deliberate look and when her gaze slid back to him, Jim understood.

"How did you know that room was available?" he asked, stiffly.

"People tend to speak awfully loud in Ten Forward," Anna said. "You said it yourself earlier. I pay attention to everything. Imagine my surprise to find out that you recently had Ambassador Micheel onboard and that he stayed only a couple of rooms away from the captain.”

She trailed off and looked up at the ceiling, as if deep in thought.

"Once Trig gets released, I'm sure Doctor McCoy will want to turn his attention on more interesting matters," she said. "He likes mysteries, doesn't he? He's a researcher at heart, I can tell. He saved my life and Trig's life. We owe him.

"Seeing as how you're so concerned about the possibility of a relapse, wouldn't it be a shame if the doctor didn't have those samples on hand and Trig was on a separate deck from myself? This ship is so large. Medical emergencies could quickly turn deadly, wouldn’t you agree?"

"You're trading tissue samples for that damn room?" Jim said, in a low voice. He could hardly believe it. She wanted Trig close so much that she was willing to allow McCoy samples from their own bodies to play with.

Jim suspected that Anna really didn't care what McCoy found or she didn't think he couldfind anything. Her need to have Trig close overrode any sense of privacy or concern she had over those samples.

_ But that still doesn't make sense if she… _

And then it hit him.

Anna wasn't faking being ill. What she had done was to simply show him how physically frail she was. She allowed Jim to study her face, let some of her exhaustion show through in order for him to draw his own conclusions about the importance of having base tissue samples around. McCoy really did need them and not just to satisfy his own curiosity. At the same time, there was a threat underlying her words: _ if you don't destroy those samples, I will make sure everyone knows about the treatment of FI officers under your care. _

But Anna would keep her mouth shut if Jim gave Trig the room.

Jim was torn. He was angry that she was forcing him to act according to her wishes, at how cold she was, to think she could threaten and back him in a corner the way she did. But he was also heartsick. It was a clear sign that she did not trust him. She thought she had to play with him in order to get what she wanted, in order to be helped. 

And not only that, but Anna had to have also believed Jim was capable of cruelty in his own way. She felt she had to barter a part of herself, a part of her partner, in order for Jim not to separate them.

It was a twisted version of the truth but Jim could easily see her perspective with each fraught interaction.

_ Is this what the Federation Intelligence turned you into?_

Anna looked at him calmly, her face smooth and clear. The anger was gone, replaced by a cool, assessing look.

"You want that room so badly, you got it," Jim said. He wanted his voice to sound hard, to hide the hurt he felt at her assumptions. But instead it sounded almost gentle. "I'll let McCoy know where to send Trig after his examination."

She nodded once and then took a step inside her room. Jim couldn't help but notice the gleam of triumph in her eyes.

_ Cold victory, kid. I would have given it to you anyway if you had just waited. _

"Anna," Jim said. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I meant what I said. You're safe here."

Her expression remained placid.

"You keep saying that," she said. "Who are you trying to convince?"

She stepped into her room and the door slid shut.

###


	8. A Talk. A File.

Anna woke up between breaths.

Her eyes opened but she remained still, rapidly cataloging her environment. She knew exactly where she was, who she was and how she had gotten there. In most situations, clarity was not a problem for her. Years of having to catch short naps on the run had trained her to be conscious in the blink of an eye. Sounds, a change in light, even a slight shift in motion would force her back to consciousness. The few things that slowed her down were drugs and severe injuries.

But the FI had ways around mere annoyances.

Anna's problem was that she dreamed deeply. Having little to no transition from deep REM to full-on consciousness meant that sometimes, strong emotions carried over from her dreams. She had woken up a few times with tears on her face or a scream stuck in her throat. She was always, _always_ able to control herself though; it was simply unacceptable to wake up shrieking in fear when you were in danger of being found by hostile forces.

She heard the chirrup again and turned towards the room entrance from her place on the couch.

"Come in," she said and the doors slid open.

"Ma'am?"

A tall figure stood in her doorway against the bright lights of the corridor outside. She squinted, letting her eyes adjust to the light.

"Trig. Come in," Her voice sounded rough. She glanced at the chronometer on the table across the room and frowned. It was 0740, nearing the start of the Enterprise's Alpha shift.

"Sorry, colonel," Trig said, stepping into the room. The doors hissed shut behind him and he stood straight, with his hand up to his brow in a stiff salute. He wore a loose gray undershirt and pants, similar to the clothing she had worn in the medical bay.

_ Must have just left the doctor then. _

"I didn't mean to wake you. The doctor wanted to run additional tests and they took a little longer than expected."

"I've been out for almost three hours," Anna said, standing up. She straightened her sweater, and looked up at the man before her. "I needed to wake up anyway. And stop with the titles already. No one’s watching, at ease."

Trig dropped his hand and relaxed. He smiled at Anna and she smiled back. Without a word, he crossed over to where she stood and picked her up in a warm, all engulfing embrace. They stood for a moment, just holding each. Anna clung to him tightly, needing to feel his solid form against hers.

"You went into the water," Trig said, his words muffled slightly. Anna felt his hot breath against her shoulder and she closed her eyes. "I felt you in the water. You shouldn't have done that. If the Tressacks found us-"

"They didn't," Anna said, pulling back. She looked up into Trig's face and saw her own exhaustion reflected in the lines of his face. "The Enterprise got to us in time."

Trig sighed and let her go. He moved towards the couch, falling into it with a grunt and she sat down next to him, holding onto his hand. There was nothing romantic about the gesture; it was born out of a simple need for connection. Trig was familiar and safe and she needed to hold on to him, needed to know he was there and that he was real and she didn't fail him.

Trig squeezed her hand back_. _

"You should have left me behind," Trig said, solemnly. His pale blue eyes were dark in the dim light of the room but his hair seemed to shine with a radiance of its own. "You could have made contact with home base sooner and kept Starfleet out of this if you'd just left me behind."

Anna stared hard at Trig and he stared back at her without flinching.

"Is that out of your system now?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Trig scowled.

"It wasn’t a joke," he said in frustration, but he didn't let go of her hand. "One day your luck is going to run out and you'll-"

"We weren't lucky, Trig," Anna said. "And we don’t need luck because we’re the best, right?"

She knew she sounded sluggish but it felt good not to pretend she was alright. She could let her defenses down, even for a short while. She could count on Trig to bring her down a notch but he also allowed her to be herself. It was comforting to know that even on the Enterprise, she could depend on him.

Trig's face grew dark and she sighed. He was upset but she could see his worry and concern for her underneath it all.

"Don't joke about this, Anna. You know how bad it could've been.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her free hand to her forehead. A slow, steady throb was beginning to build in her head and she knew she had to get something to eat soon. If she trusted Doctor McCoy, she would have gone to him for a painkiller but she didn't want an addendum to his medical report on her.

_ The perils of a specially modified system. _

_ Damn those transfusions. _

"Do you honestly think I would have left you behind?" Anna said, opening her eyes.

Trig's anger seemed to deflate and he shook his head. "I know you wouldn't leave me," he said softly. "But no one would have blamed you if you did. It would have been the right thing to do."

"The right thing to do?" she asked. "Would you have left me behind?"

"No." His answer was swift and lacked hesitation. Anna huffed out a laugh and stared at him.

"In that case, the matter is closed. Why are we even still talking about this?"

"As your security officer, it's my duty to keep you safe and to ensure that we reach our mission objective. I stand between you and whatever harm might come," Trig said. He looked down. "But as your friend - thank you."

Anna nodded and leaned back. They sat quietly for awhile, listening to the almost imperceptible hum of the ship.

"Bad dreams?" Trig said after a while. “You don’t look very rested.”

Anna hesitated.

_ ...holding her down they were holding her down and... _

_ PAINPAINPAIN_

_ ...there was a hypospray at her neck and Daniel's voice telling her to calm down to stop moving to stop... _

She frowned and nodded, feeling colder than she had a moment ago. A sense of unease hovered at the edge of her mind.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Not much to talk about," she said. She wasn't lying to him, not really. "Fragments. Bits of things. Nothing coherent or clear that I can really pick out."

"Not happy things." 

"Are they ever?" she said, trying but failing to sound nonchalant. She shivered slightly but Trig made no further comment.

"The captain isn't posing as a distraction, is he?" Trig said, changing the subject. The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk. "I may not be at full capacity but I still have above average vision."

Anna rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing there. Move on.”

"He kept orienting himself towards you and watching for your reaction before he spoke. I don't think he was even aware of it," Trig said, ignoring her. "He’s familiar. You already knew him."

Anna felt a sliver of fear mixed with annoyance run through her. Trig really did have a gift for weaponry but that was only an extension of his powerful sense of intuition. Oftentimes, he just knew what buttons to press and where the trigger was. She wished, not for the first time, that he only focused his intuitive powers on weapons.

"Trig…" Anna began but Trig gave her a look and she fell silent.

He stood up and began to walk around the dimly lit ready room, his gaze lingering briefly on the shaded door to her bedroom and then at the datapad on the low table in front of the couch that Anna sat on.

She watched as he moved silently, fingers pressing against surfaces, pale blue eyes searching, scanning for any oddities. After her first meeting with Bishop, she had done her due diligence and searched the entirety of her quarters. Jim had not placed surveillance captures in any of the suites and she had seen no intra-ship communications that indicated otherwise.

She also knew that a communications officer, some lieutenant named Uhura had redirected all transmissions from the video comms in her room to feed directly into the captain's link. 

Bishop know that all video transmissions were being spied on and that any sensitive matters should be handled via her borrowed datapad. They could still pass information through regular transmissions but only for show and they couldn't avoid video comms: there was no need to raise any suspicions that Anna even had an inkling of what Jim was doing.

Anna felt her stomach twist at the thought of him. She pushed her feelings aside as Trig turned back to her.

“Trig, you know well enough the first thing I would have done was a sweep,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The room’s clean.”

He looked nonplussed. "Either the captain is a very trusting man or he's found some other way to watch us."

"Surveillance in the hallway and our outgoing comms are compromised," Anna said. She gestured to the PADD before her. "I hacked into that a couple of days ago. It's our one secure link to Bishop and into the ship's mainframe. I've already input your security clearance codes so you can use it."

Trig's face lit up and he grinned broadly. Anna couldn't help but smile back. He really did look like a little boy at times, even though she was the younger one.

"You're a genius," he said brightly. He picked up the PADD and tapped in his code, settling back down next to her on the couch.

"Aren't we all?" Anna said. Trig frowned at what he read on the screen. Anna suddenly remembered what she had been reading before she had fallen asleep. She had been so tired that she hadn't even closed out of the file, much less make it to her bed.

_ I shouldn't have missed that. _

Again, she cursed the transfusions the doctor inflicted upon her. They may have been necessary to keep her alive but the subsequent side effects were almost intolerable. 

"Interesting reading material," Trig said, turning the PADD towards her. She rolled her eyes and waved it away. "Our fine captain's personnel files?"

"Not just his. I have personnel files for all the senior officers. It's only fair," Anna said. "He tried to access my file. He even got his chief engineer to try and break into Church."

Trig looked surprised and then he let out a laugh. "Did Bishop go apoplectic?" he asked gleefully.

Anna knew that he enjoyed seeing their CO get angry, a feeling that Anna did not understand or share. Seeing Bishop angry was like seeing a prehistoric predator coming at you with its jaws wide open. She was only too glad that his fury had never been directed at her.

"No, he was more amused that they even tried," she said. "I decided to be generous though. Captain Kirk will gain access to my psychological profile and basic information by 0900 today."

Trig let out a low whistle. "Brave girl," he said. "I knew you had a masochistic streak but that's pretty extreme. You must have some crazy debt to pay him."

"Something like that," Anna said quietly. She understood what Trig was saying; it was one thing for team members to have insight into your inner workings, quite another for strangers to have that kind of access. She wanted to let Jim think he had some leverage over her since it would make him more cooperative towards her and her team. It was human nature. People always felt safer thinking they had the upper hand over someone else.

Pity was a great manipulation tool.

But she did feel as if she owed Jim something. This was her way of balancing out her sins.

"He won't be able to look at anything else beyond that. I don't think Jimmy realizes what he's started. He's on the Bishop’s watch list, that's for sure."

Anna winced then, knowing what was to come.

"Oh, so now it's Jimmy?" Trig said. He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something but Anna held out her hand.

"Stop right there, Trig," Anna said. "All you need to know is that we were friends before I was recruited. That's it. Jim Kirk had a rough childhood and a strained relationship with his mother and step-father. And you know who his biological father was, I could tell when I introduced you. And I'm sure you're well aware of what he did.

She tilted her chin at the PADD and his file. "He's a genius. He's reckless and overconfident but loyal to his crew and his friends. He has issues making emotional connections which can manifest into a strong need for affection - of the physical sort, anyway. He has problems with authority but he seems pretty tied to Admiral Pike at Starfleet."

Anna took a breath and let it out slowly.

"The most important thing you need to know is this: he is Starfleet. We have to watch ourselves around him and his crew. We have to use what we have on hand."

Trig's face grew serious and Anna could almost feel his focus shift from pleasure to business.

"Anything we can exploit?" he asked. "Anything we can use to our advantage?"

Anna pressed her lips together and turned around to face the large picture window. She looked out at the stars beyond. She had always loved the starry night sky, even as a child. Even though there was no difference between night and day in space, looking at the stars soothed her and reminded her of home. Of better times. The hardest missions were the ones that took place underground, in closed-off areas.

She waited patiently. 

"Oh," Trig said. She heard the comprehension in his voice. "So."

"So," Anna repeated. She forced herself to look back at Trig. “We should let him catch me alone a few times. Otherwise, he'll keep seeking me out and may decide to watch my room a little more closely. Once the captain gets what he thinks he wants, he'll leave us alone."

"And what do you think he wants, Anna?" Trig asked warily.

Trig was protective of her but they both knew that duty came first. Anna was willing to do what she needed to do. It was something she was used to. Everything and everyone could be used as a tool. She had given up much more of herself than Trig had wanted her to. They all had.

But at least it had always been her choice.

Anna shrugged, feigning ignorance.

"Information?" she said. "Trade secrets? According to his profile, Kirk is ambitious and curious. He wants what every motivated Starfleet officer wants. An inside look at the fabled FI."

"I don't think information is where the line ends," Trig said. There was an edge to his voice, a hint of steel that Anna only knew too well. "How far do we expect to have to satisfy the captain's curiosity ?"

“Are your quarters are next door?"

Trig nodded stiffly.

"Then for all his faults Kirk is an honorable man, unlike other Fleet officers. He’s curious, not cruel."

"I would feel better if we had our communicators," Trig said. He looked at the Starfleet communicator on her shirt with a frown. "If you're stuck in a situation and I'm not there-"

Anna blinked, surprised. "Trig, I can take care of myself," she said. "You know this. Even if someone were to try, I could easily inflict serious damage despite whatever they did to me. Besides, the captain and I were only friends. We've never considered each other as anything more. He won't attempt what you're thinking."

"Anna, we've both had transfusions," Trig said. His face was serious and grim. "We both underwent sessions with the hemopurifiers, Doctor McCoy told me as much. You know this means until Ven is with us, we're down to less than forty percent of our full physical capabilities. I don't doubt that you can take some idiot redshirts down in a quick fight, but we're both still in recovery mode."

Trig shook his head and began rubbing at his eyes, something he often did when he was deep in thought or when something troubled him. Part of her ached for him. 

She hated that he was concerned for her sake.

"We both know the captain is the least of our worries," Anna said softly.

"Yeah," Trig sighed. "I get that. But he's the easiest problem to solve."

Anna decided that it was time they got down to the matter at hand. She took the PADD back and pulled up a file that outlined the Enterprise's next pick up point and Bishop's orders.

"Fortunately, it will only be a week until we see Ven and the rest of the team," she said. Trig looked up, eyes widening. "Bishop's given us the go-ahead to return to J-311."

She handed the PADD to Trig, who took it with one hand and read over it quickly. He grinned again.

"Say what you will about Bishop. But the man works wonders. I'm sure the captain is ecstatic to know that his ship is essentially a transport vehicle for FI operations."

"Scan the next file," she said. "I told Bishop about the presence of Heretic on the planet. It's the Tressack base of operations, just as we thought it would be."

Trig did not look up from the PADD and Anna took a moment to study him. She could see that his cheeks were slightly sunken in and that he had lost weight, just as she had. He was still weak from his injuries and despite their playful teasing, it was clear he was struggling mentally to connect the dots she was laying out for him. She wanted him to rest soon but right now, they had to get on the same page.

_ I'm sorry._

_I'll protect you._

"I told Bishop about Daniel."

Trig raised his head slowly, the glee in his face slowly fading. "And?" 

"As of 2200 yesterday, his status has been updated to dishonorable discharge," Anna said. Her voice was even and calm but she could feel Trig's eyes boring into her, watching for any sign of weakness or frailty. 

If he saw anything in her expression though, he made no mention of it.

"That explains the code bump."

"Yes. However, he would prefer if we returned with the traitor alive," Anna said dispassionately. Inside though, her heart was racing and she felt the foul taste of bile at the back of her throat.

_ Not allowed. _

_ Not until after the mission is over. _

"And you?" Trig said. "How do you want this to end?"

It was staggering, the sudden surge of love, fierce and strong and true, that moved through her. If Trig’s finger slipped, if a weapon discharged early, "accidentally," it was because he knew she needed it to. Before every operation they had together, he asked her the same question.

_What do you need me to do?_

It made Anna miss the rest of her team even more. Her team was her family, the only people she trusted now. It was good to be reminded of the fact: the situation with Jim was nothing but a distraction. 

He meant nothing but what he could offer them. 

Jim Kirk was a means to an end.

"I would prefer it if Daniel were kept alive," she said. "He doesn't get the easy way out."

Trig nodded but his eyes were still wary.

"Anna, what Daniel did-" Trig began but she went on.

"I'm not going to talk about Daniel," she said shortly.

"Everything about Daniel involves this mission and you know it," Trig said stubbornly. "He's a traitor and he was from the beginning. We were set up. You especially. This isn't your fault."

"Don't," Anna said, feeling her entire body tense up. "I don't want to hear it wasn't my fault. Not from you, not from Bishop, not from anyone. It was my fucking fault he got as far as he did and I take full responsibility for what I allowed him to do."

She paused and then said stiffly, “I expect to be dealt with after this.”

Trig's face registered shock and then he let out a short incredulous laugh. Anna felt her cheeks burn with shame but she said nothing.

"What, you think you're going to be punished for what happened?" Trig said, his voice rising. "That's bullshit and you know it. You can't blame yourself, Anna, and if you do then we all share that blame. We all knew something was off but we didn't stop it. Hell, Ice didn't say anything either and she's an empath. It’s clear to everyone that Daniel was only part of something bigger.”

Anna opened her mouth but Trig cut her off before she could speak.

"You may not want to hear it but it's true," Trig said firmly. "This isn't your fault. This is beyond you, beyond us. We'll fix the Tressacks and Heretic. Bishop will handle the rest."

He held up the PADD but Anna did not trust herself to take it from him. Her hands shook and she curled them up into fists.

"Since the Tressacks know about the vulnerabilities of our suits, we should have a few modifications done before we reach the star base," Trig said, his voice brisk and business-like. "Also, we'll need to make sure that we use maneuvers Daniel is unfamiliar with. We have to assume that he's shared all of our past missions with them and they know how we operate."

"Agreed," Anna said, pushing away the turmoil that weighed heavy on her chest. "I've already started work on our execution strategy. You and I were out for a couple of days so he's had that much more time to plan for our return but he doesn't know when or how we'll return to J-311."

"At least we still have some element of surprise on our side." Trig clicked through the datapad with a look of intense concentration. "I have a couple of additions to propose. After you look at them, I can send it off to the rest of the group for their input."

"Good."

"One last thing," Trig said, without looking up. "When were you going to mention the captain’s resemblance? It was the first thing I noticed so that means you definitely saw it."

Anna blinked a few times, staying still and unperturbed, but she felt as if she had been physically hit. 

Trig slowly looked up, his eyes soft but stern.

"We both know what I mean," he said. "You know what this looks like. What it implies."

Anna tried but failed to keep the shocked hurt and indignation from her face. If he didn't think she was able to continue-

She was suddenly too upset to be angry, too ashamed to be anything else. After all, he was right. He only said what she had been thinking, what she was afraid was true. What she wanted to do was to run to the bathroom and throw up or cry or-

Anything but look at Trig's face at that moment.

"Do you think I'm not fit to command this mission, major?"

Trig reached out a hand towards her. "Anna, that's not what I-"

"Speak freely, Jansen. Don't sugarcoat it. What are you saying?"

"I _am_ speaking freely," Trig said. She could hear nothing but honesty in his voice, could see nothing but truth in his face. "There's no one else I'd rather follow, no one else I trust more. Clearly Bishop agrees since he hasn't pulled you out."

"So what's your point?"

He looked at her with such kindness then that Anna could not bear it. He hesitated for a moment and then took a deep breath, as if gathering up the courage for what he had to say next.

"You're one of my closest friends, Anna," he said slowly. "So many of us leave behind our past without a look back but if there’s anything I’ve learned it’s that it always comes back. The things we don’t face, always come back and they always bring with them consequences.”

Anna stared at him, saying nothing.

"You talk about your life before in abstraction - that is, if you talk about it at all. I think Jim Kirk has more of an influence over you than you think. Acting as if that doesn't matter won't help. You can't afford to pretend that what you had with Daniel didn't matter. The sooner you face-"

"Nothing but this mission matters, Trig," Anna said coldly, finding her voice. Something inside of her twisted and then froze into place. It was odd how apart from herself she suddenly felt, like watching a holovid of an actor with her face. When she spoke next, she felt hollow and broken at the same time.

"There is nothing but the mission now. It's too important to spend naval-gazing about ancient history. Don't forget that and do not cross that line again."

Trig's face fell but Anna was simply too overwhelmed to care. She felt a part of herself turn away and shut down, unable to deal with his words. A look of deep regret flickered across his features before being replaced by a blank, expressionless gaze.

"Now, what additions were you planning to make?"

###

"Scott to Captain Kirk, please respond."

Jim sat up in the captain's chair on the bridge and tapped his communicator. It was an hour into the Alpha shift and he had spent that time looking over the past shift reports, consulting with Sulu and Chekov regarding the fastest course to the Nuzum colony and then to the Gamma star base and speaking with Yeoman Rand about accommodations for the FI officers that were due to be beamed up to the Enterprise.

During all of this, part of him mulled over his last interaction with Anna.

Jim was still smarting over how she thought so little of him that she felt she had to barter for nothing more than a simple room. He was sure she had previous interactions with other Starfleet officers; had she developed a distrust of all Starfleet members due to their actions or was the Federation Intelligence to blame? The girl he had known, _ his _ Anna, was naive and almost too trusting. _ His _Anna was smart but she was unfailingly kind. Jim provoked. Anna deflected. She needed Jim to watch over her, to protect her and he done so fiercely and without reservation.

When she was gone, he felt he no longer had a purpose so Jim had given in fully to the self-destructive streak that had only been ended by Pike and his dare.

In hindsight Jim knew their relationship had been a little unhealthy, a little too codependent, but it had worked. Jim didn't believe in analyzing happiness. He had been happy with Anna and he could not understand the woman she was now.

But he wanted to. 

“Tell me you have good news, chief."

"Aye, laddie." Scotty's voice sounded excited. "I mean. Captain. Aye, c_aptain_. I'm sending a transmission to your ready room now. It's… That thing you wanted me to work on. The important thing."

_ So much for discretion, Scotty. _

Jim mentally rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Understood," he said. "Kirk out."

He glanced over his shoulder at Spock who merely looked back at him calmly and nodded as if Jim had spoken out loud. He stood and made his way to the captain's chair.

"I'll be away forty-five minutes, tops," he said as Spock sat down in his chair.

The doors to his ready room slid silently shut behind him and Jim made his way quickly to the clear display panel at the far end of the room.

"Computer, secure the door," he said absently, as he pulled up his newly acquired files. The display shifted and darkened and Jim took a step back, waiting for Scotty's transmission to go through.

"Door secured," the computer announced but Jim barely registered the sound. Scotty's short memo filled the screen before him.

_ Captain- this is all me or the kid could pull up without setting off the FI's internal alarms. What's available is her psych profile and her current status info. The rest of her file is pretty buried. I hope this is enough for you. –MS _

"Next.”

The memo disappeared, replaced by a large shot of Anna's face and neck against a stark white background. Her hair was pulled back and a date at the corner of the image stated that it had been taken only a few months prior.

For a moment, Jim stared at the image, unable to look away.

There was a brittle quality in the straight, unsmiling line of Anna's mouth and in the sharp angles of her face. Behind her fine pale features was something uncanny, a sort of world-weariness that was both sad and frightful. She was still young, younger than him even, but her gaze at the camera seemed angry and hard.

_ I'm looking too hard. I'm adding more than there is. It's just an image._

Jim rubbed his eyes with both hands. He looked up again and sighed.

"Next," Jim said and the display shifted into text.

** _HIGH SECURITY ALERT:_ **

** _Unauthorized viewers will be prosecuted according to_ **

** _Federation Intelligence code 539.826.3; Starfleet (majora) code 539.452_ **

**Personnel Contents for: Anna Claire Demerin**[Active Duty]

**Profile Contents:**

Campaign Record [Locked]

Commendations [Locked]

Core Specialties [Locked]

Medical: Physiological Record [Locked]

Medical: Psychological Profile [Unlocked]

**Command Team A:**

Major Daniel Gaines, First Officer [_Non-active: _ MIA 2264.08. Updated 2265.1: _Dishonorably Discharged_]

Major Greger Halvar Jansen, Security, Acting First Officer [_Active_]

Commander Paloma Tanz, Communications [_Active_]

Commander Alessander Levine, Navigation [_Active_]

Commander Matthew ven Christie, MD, Science [_Active_]

Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Paul Cormick, Engineer [_Active_]

Jim licked his lips and took a deep breath. The word UNLOCKEDflashed at him in bright blue, like a beacon.

"Next."

###


	9. Assessment. Transformation. Training Sessions.

_ Federation Intelligence Academy _

_ Cadet, 1st year, 2nd semester _

_ Age: 17 years, 8 mos. (see DOB) _

** _Major Track:_ ** _ Science: Structural Data & Programming _

** _Minor Track:_ ** _ Science: Biotechnology _

** _Minor Track II:_ ** _ Science: Biology (Humanoid; non-Xeno) _

** _Focus:_ ** _ Research & Development _

** _PSY Note:_ ** _ [Deleted] has requested a full psychological profile for Cadet Demerin. Cadet Demerin has the potential for success in the Command Track but needs further assessment before she is approached regarding a change from the Science Track to… _

_ Initial simulation performance(s) have proven that Cadet Demerin is able to lead successful campaigns with both large and small teams, demonstrating creative thinking and an aptitude for strategy and tactics. Her scores on the Applied Science & Engineering Aptitude (AS&EA) tests have shown her to be exceptionally… _

_ [Addendum] After an initial meeting with the Cadet wherein a small scale psychological stress test was conducted, it is my concern that she is emotionally immature and prone to develop dependent/co-dependencies with subjects she deems protective entities. This tendency is due in some part to her youth and inexperience, but she seems to have a predisposition for this behavior. In physical situations that require quick thinking, instant decisions and action, Cadet Demerin is a capable and strong leader. However, in singular conditions requiring a great emotional effort or defense, the Cadet falters and will likely defer to authoritative figureheads regardless of… _

_ A second meeting, wherein a more demanding stress test will be conducted, is scheduled for… _

###

_ Session 2: _

Anna sat at a plain metal table. She was still and very, very pale. Her eyes were shiny and her lips were slightly parted and she looked down at the surface of the table as if it held the secrets of the universe.

The expression on her face and the way her large eyes seemed to take up half her face made her seem childlike, as if the previous hour and a half had wiped years away.

She looked stunned. Defeated.

"Cadet Demerin, this session is over."

Anna jerked suddenly, startled by the voice and looked up. Her mouth trembled. But then the moment passed and she lifted her chin up slightly, almost defiantly. Her hands uncurled against her thighs.

"Yes, ma'am," Anna said in a soft, shaky voice.

She stood up, her shoulders straight and her entire body seeming to scream with discomfort, and pushed back her chair. It made a screech as it slid across the floor but she did not seem to hear it or mind the sound. With distant, unseeing eyes, Anna brought her hand up to her brow in a stiff salute.

"You are dismissed."

Anna brought her hand down slowly and walked towards the door. She passed near the camera and the harsh lights overhead shone in her eyes, making them seem almost wet and thick with tears for a brief moment as she stepped out of the stark gray room.

###

… _ there are certain areas where Cadet Demerin shows extreme vulnerability to attack. She has produced acceptable reactions within range under a prolonged full-scale psychological assault however… _

_ Based on her responses during today's session, I believe the Cadet is a good candidate for transfer into the Command Track. However, endurance training under sustained mental duress coupled with physiological stress is necessary to dismantle the cadet's current defense mechanisms and emotional instability and rebuild her… _

_ The process will commence when the Cadet begins the Evaluation Boards. I recommend a full spectrum of chemical enhancements and… _

###

Jim felt as if he were going to throw up.

Contrary to what he told Spock earlier, he had stayed in his ready room, watching session after session, speeding through some scenes and re-watching others, for nearly two hours. He knew Spock would have come in if there was an immediate need for him to be on the bridge. He also knew on some level he needed to see this for his own sake, pushing aside the added benefit of insight into FI methodology. He had read through Anna's psychological reports, staring at the words until his eyes stung and his stomach churned.

Jim had witnessed someone being slowly and systematically torn apart.

Whatever the Federation Intelligence had called it, Starfleet had a different name for what he had watched Anna go through.

_ Torture. _

Jim and his cohorts at Starfleet had been through interrogation scenarios, theoretical and applied, physical and psychological. But there was a level of trust involved, that the officers in charge would eventually stop if a cadet was in any true danger, mental or otherwise. The exercises he had endured were brutal and exhausting but at the heart of each drill was a certain sense of safety. Jim had known that he was being trained to build strength of character, to hammer out weaknesses and to prepare him for unknown challenges.

Jim found no such framework in what he had seen. He now understood why the FI field teams were so small in number. Why they were so selective with recruits.

In some sessions, Anna had been brought in by stone-faced guards, bleeding and clearly in great physical pain from a 'training' drill. She still carried her survival pack on her back and a weapon in her hand during those times. 

Jim had studied her battered face and torn hands, her body shaking with hypothermia and blood loss, as an unknown, unseen doctor destroyed her. Her expression during those times, bewildered and helpless, were somehow worse than her physical wounds.

Some sessions had taken place in the middle of the night, with Anna still in her regulation sleepwear, hair uncombed, face haggard from lack of sleep and red eyes blinking tiredly at the harsh lights.

She had been drugged during some sessions, with her eyes so dilated that they were nearly black and her neck still bearing the mark of a hypospray. During those times, she had struggled to answer questions mercilessly thrown at her and looked so confused and so vulnerable and so scared that Jim could not watch the sessions in their entirety.

They tore her apart.

Over and over and over.

It seemed to go on and on, with Anna growing frailer and weaker and smaller. There were different doctors, using different tactics - even different rooms and settings to break her, to shatter her sense of self and security. Some tried to gain her trust at first, speaking kindly and gently, before tearing her back down. Others had screamed at her, some had threatened. But each session would turn out the same: with Anna walking out, shaken and spiritually crushed.

But then things changed.

Jim noticed how she began to grow apathetic to the doctors' threats.

Session after session, she changed. 

As they became more brutal and more personal, Anna grew less responsive. The light in her eyes dimmed and then sharpened into something hard and almost malevolent. Even the lines of her body and her face seemed to alter. She carried herself differently. When she sat down, her back was straight and proud and there was an arrogance in the sway of her hips when she walked through the door. She moved insolently, almost lazily and Jim could recognize the dare in each gesture; she had gone from being afraid of the doctors, to hating them, taunting them.

She looked physically stronger. Leaner and harder without the fragility that had marked her earlier sessions.

Jim had felt something icy touch the back of his neck as he watched Anna smile at a doctor after he had threatened to hurt the members of her team. Her leg had been broken then. She had literally been dragged into the room with her hair matted and filthy with sweat and dirt and blood. Anna had sat on the edge of the chair, with her shin bent at an odd angle, and her breaths shallow and quick. Jim had recognized the sound from experience. She must have been in severe pain and close to shock.

There was a long, ugly gash at the side of her mouth that had split open when she grinned. Blood covered her teeth and she had laughed at the doctor.

"_They shouldn't use the same doctors twice," _ Anna said, clutching the sides of her thighs, as if to keep herself upright. Speaking clearly took an effort but she went on, letting blood and saliva drip down her chin without a care.

_"I'm good with tech. That should be in my file. Did you hear about the recognition program I created? It’s based on the electrical output from the hippocampus. In humans, faces seem to generate a certain signature output. There's something about the patterns of firing electrons to certain regions that are fixed. Predictable and traceable and more importantly, replicable. You’ve read that paper, haven’t you? How I've been able to isolate those types of signatures." _

"_Why are you telling me this?" _ the doctor, a man with a low deep voice, had asked. Jim had heard a slight tremor under his words. He seemed startled by the break in pattern.

"_Because I've been able to run trials on the program on the FI personnel database," _ Anna said. Her smile grew wider and Jim thought she had looked almost insane. She could have been bluffing but a wild, manic light had entered her eyes and she looked feverish and excited.

"_I know who you are and where you live,_ _Doctor Ives. They told you that your identity is safe behind that mask. __That you were safe, you and your wife and your children. Do you want to know what the FI taught me to do?”_

The doctor had ended that session abruptly.

Jim had closed her file at that point. He was not prepared to see someone he had known so closely and so deeply transform into something nearly unrecognizable. Jim could not stomach reading any more of the written psychological reports because they described exactly how Anna reacted and why and how to move forward with even more stress testing_. _ The reports were frightening in their dry, clinical language; frightening because there was no empathy there, no humanity, no guilt or remorse. They merely asked how far they could push a subject and how much more the subject could endure.

_ The FI is in the business of creating sociopaths. _

Jim laughed out loud at the idea but his laughter sounded hysterical and he could feel panic, bright and scalding, bubbling up from his stomach to the back of his throat.

"Door lock override," the computer's voice said and Jim stood, startled.

"Spock," Jim said. He rubbed his eyes and turned his back on the display, needing to stand between his First Officer and Anna's files. He didn't know who exactly he was protecting, Spock or Anna, but he knew he had to stand between them now.

"We've been hailed by the Chieftain of the Nuzum colony. He would like to extend a welcome to the Enterprise before we enter orbit," Spock said as he walked into the room. His dark eyes focused on Jim, impassive and bland as the doors closed behind him. "As captain, you should be the one to receive his transmission. Otherwise I would not have interrupted you at this time."

"You don't have to explain, commander," Jim said. He felt tired and needed the company of people, _ his _people around him. "I'll come back to the bridge. I trust everything is in order - no explosions, Klingon attacks or disruptions of the space-time continuum take place in the past couple of hours?"

"There have been no anomalous occurrences since you left your post, captain.”

"Well, a guy can dream, can't he?" Jim said, forcing himself to smile but Spock only stared at him. He rubbed his hand across his face again and took a deep breath. "Alright, let's go."

Jim took a step forward but Spock didn't move. Instead, he tilted his head to the side and glanced at the screen.

"Captain, if I may speak freely?"

"Go for it."

"I assume you gained access to Colonel Demerin's personnel files based on the communication from Lieutenant Commander Scott. Were you able to shed light on her mission?"

"No," Jim said. He didn't want to look back at the screen. In fact, he felt like asking Engineering to replace it with a completely different display panel altogether. In his opinion, the damn thing was tainted now. "Scotty couldn't open up her entire file without setting off the FI internal alarms but he was able to get into her psychological profile."

Spock looked curious. Jim closed his eyes briefly, gathering himself. When he opened them again, he felt calmer but no less troubled.

"What do you know about the FI Academy's Command Track?" Jim asked quietly. Spock frowned. "Specifically their psychological endurance and stress tests."

"The Federation Intelligence is extremely guarded about their processes. I have no personal insight into their practices regarding Command cadets."

"What about hearsay? Rumors?"

"I do not deal in idle speculation."

"Fine, forget I asked," Jim said, annoyed. He began to move towards the door when Spock spoke again. This time his voice was quieter, almost tense.

"Tracks within the Federation Intelligence Academy are highly specialized and leverage different psychological methods based on traits required for certain fields," he said. Jim turned around and stared at him but Spock looked at the wall. "Because of the nature of their positions, commanding officers within the Federation Intelligence are trained to endure extreme environmental pressures."

"That sounds similar to Starfleet's Command track," Jim said. "So what's different?"

Spock hesitated. His dark eyes met Jim's own. "Their practices are rumored to be exceptionally severe. It’s speculated they use enemy techniques for cadet exercises."

"So did Starfleet."

"Starfleet's exercises were carried out in brief duration," Spock said. There was something in his even gaze that troubled Jim. "I have heard that the Federation Intelligence psychological stress tests take place right up to the day prior to graduation from the Academy."

"How long is the Command track?" Jim asked.

'Three years," Spock said. "They do not have summer or winter breaks in the year as Starfleet does and therefore graduate a year earlier."

_ She had to endure that shit for three years. _

Jim was suddenly furious. Someone had hurt one of his own. Anna hadn't ever belonged to him except in his mind but she had been his to protect once. Anna had chosen her path in life and any abuse, any injury she received after she left him behind was her burden to bear; _it was_ _her own damn fault_ but that didn't matter. It didn't matter that it happened years ago, that there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. The fact that she was here now, that she was alive, didn't matter.

They had hurt Anna.

She might not have bore physical scars from her experience but he knew they were there, just as his experiences had marked him inside. He knew what it was like, to feel hate so deeply and come close to being consumed by rage. Jim had been spared the worst when he had Anna. With her, he had purpose. _ Keep out of trouble and you get to keep her. _ Despite the beatings from Frank, despite the helplessness and loneliness he had felt at being abandoned by his mother and then Sam, despite the contempt his teachers had shown him because he was belligerent and hyperactive and too smart for his own good, Jim had survived and even thrived. Anna had depended on him and even as a child he knew he could not, would not let her down.

Anna kept him from losing all control then, just as Starfleet and his ship and crew did now.

To see someone hurt her, to watch as she broke down again and again until something unrecognizable rose up was nothing short of blasphemous.

"What did you see?" Spock said. A small wrinkle formed between his eyes, a rare show of emotion, and he turned towards Jim fully. 

"There was nothing there about her current mission," Jim said. He hesitated, unsure how much he should or could tell Spock then decided that it didn't matter. He could trust his First Officer; that was the whole point of his position. "But if you want to watch it, you're free to do so."

"Captain," Spock said and then paused briefly. "Jim, you seem troubled. I think it best that I refrain from viewing her personnel file."

"Spock, I wasn't looking at it objectively," Jim admitted with a sigh. "I want you to watch it. I couldn't… I can't go through the entire thing. There are reports in there and vids of her test sessions - probably all the way up to her graduation, but I can't finish it. It's… There’s too much."

_ I need you to do this for me and tell me how it ends. _

_ How dangerous, how unstable, is the Anna on my ship? _

At that last thought, Jim looked back at the glass screen. It was blank now, seemingly clean but…

"I'll have Lieutenant Commander Scott send her files to my secure personal link immediately."

Jim felt something in him loosen and he smiled at Spock. They didn't have a typical friendship and their relationship had not yet reached the potential Ambassador Spock had shown him, but Jim was beginning to understand the subtle nuances of Spock's personality. Having Anna's file sent under a secure comms line meant that Spock would keep the matter private.

"Consider it done," Jim said relief evident in his tone. "Keep me in the loop on your conclusions."

Spock nodded once and then motioned towards the door. "We should return to the bridge, captain."

"Yeah, okay," Jim said, walking towards the door again. He looked up at Spock and smiled. 

"Thanks, Spock. I really appreciate it."

###

"Slowly, Anna. Take it slow. You broke your arm so distribute your weight to accommodate for that injury."

Anna looked down at Trig before curling her hands around the ropes, one on each side of her. She closed her eyes briefly.

_ Breathe in. _

She pushed herself forward in the air, feeling her body swing up.

_ Hold. _

She stayed that way for a moment, with the ropes wrapped around her lower arms and her body as stiff and straight as a line, and then swung herself backwards.

_ Breathe out. _

She moved up quickly this way, coiling the ropes around her extended arms, slowly but surely rising.

She looked down at Trig who nodded solemnly and then she pushed her body up so that her legs wrapped around the ropes above her. Carefully, she moved her upper body so that her waist bent at a 45 degree angle and began to unwind the rope from her arms. Once free, she propelled herself forward so that she was standing up, with the rope now wound around her feet as a makeshift platform.

"Good job!" Trig called out. Happiness bloomed in her chest at his praise as she looked down at him.

"The view is nice up here," Anna said. She glanced at the closed door of the holodeck and surveyed the simulated grass below her. Long Andorian ropes surrounded her, seemingly suspended in mid-air. Fluffy white clouds moved slowly along the wide expanse of light blue sky. In the distance, gray mountains marked the horizon.

Behind her was a wide mirror where she glanced often to make sure her body was perfectly aligned with each move.

It was a surreal sight but beautiful and peaceful. Just the thing they needed after a tension-filled morning.

Anna extended one leg forward and wrapped another rope around her shin. She could feel the stretch in her muscles and she took a deep breath before adding one more loop. "Wish you were here to see it."

"Someone's got to spot you," Trig said, grinning. "Besides, I'm still a bit woozy from all that sleep I had a few days ago."

"You mean a coma," Anna said, rolling her eyes. She shook her leg free and then swung from side to side, gaining speed and force. When she had built up enough momentum, she let go of the rope and reached out for another rope. Within seconds, she had coiled it around her waist and hung nearly horizontal, face down, thirty feet from the ground.

She stretched up, feeling a pleasant pull in her back. "After this, I'm ordering you to bed rest."

"You're no fun," Trig said. "You asked me if I wanted to play in the holodeck and instead I'm just here to make sure you don't crack your head open."

"I asked you if you could be my spotter," Anna said. "Frankly I don’t think this ship has enough weaponry for your brand of downtime. And I've never fallen from an Andorian rope set.”

She pushed herself up again so that her head was towards the ground and began to move her legs in unison, winding the ropes around them. She bent her knees and released her grip on the ropes. Anna hung upside down. She could see the long tail of her hair in her peripheral.

"Yet," Trig muttered. 

Anna glared at him and crossed her arms across her chest. The movement caused her to sway slightly.

"You try coming up here then," she said. "Even with a reduced amount of neuro-serum in my system, I can still kick your ass on the ropes."

"It’s because you’re a skinny runt, you show off," Trig said, but there was no rancor in his tone. Instead he grinned up at her again, his expression open and relaxed.

Anna knew Trig was bored and worn out after their strategy session. She tried to make him take a few hours off to sleep without turning it into an order but he refused. Anna suspected he simply didn't want to be alone but she still wanted him to relax a bit, short of asking Doctor McCoy for a high dosage sedative. Trig was a social creature, much more so than she was. Whereas she thrived on solitary activities - diving and strap acrobatics, he liked being part of a group. Being on the Enterprise with time to kill, among strangers and possibly hostile Starfleet officers, did not make for a relaxing time.

Anna knew, however, that there were several holodecks on the Enterprise and if she could give her friend a few moments outdoors, even in simulation then she would. Trig liked being outdoors during the rare time off between missions.

Besides, she needed a workout.

They were both still healing but she had gotten a head start on him. She didn't want him to push his limits yet and she was aware that his idea of fun usually included weapons or hand-to-hand combat or both. But the view and the wide open space would help put him at ease, at least until the rest of her team showed up.

Trig frowned suddenly and tilted his head to the side.

"Someone's coming," he said. He glanced at the door expectantly and neither of them moved as they opened and Jim Kirk walked in. 

It was clear that he had just taken a shower and shaved. Anna could smell the soap from where she hung and the tips of his dark blonde hair were still damp. She also knew he had just changed into a fresh uniform - there were creases in the front of his trousers and on the sides of his sleeves. The scent of laundry and chemicals replaced the soap and she wrinkled her nose.

Jim noticed Trig first which was natural since he was actually standing on the ground as opposed to hanging above it. She watched quietly as he took a step towards her officer with a frown.

_ He doesn't like Trig_, Anna realized with a little surprise.

It was clear in Jim's eyes as he moved towards the blonde FI officer with a look of faint displeasure. He was trying to hide it by adopting a serious expression but Anna could easily see through him.

_ Odd. _

"Trig, have you seen Anna? The computer gave me her location but-"

Trig pointed up and Jim froze.

She supposed it was almost comical, how round his blue eyes became and how his mouth dropped open in surprise when he realized where she was. For a moment, they just stared at each other and then his eyes seemed to crawl up the length of her body and then back down to her face.

His cheeks turned bright red and his eyes grew dark. She dreaded what she knew would come next but she kept her face perfectly neutral.

"Anna, get down from there," he cried out. His boots sunk into the dirt and grass as he stomped towards her, where Trig stood. "You'll hurt yourself!"

"Captain, I am perfectly fine," she said evenly but she didn't argue. She lifted herself up using the muscles in her torso, grabbed onto a stretch of rope above where her legs were and carefully freed herself before climbing her way down.

When she hopped back down to the ground, she made a show of dusting herself off and wiping her hands on the jumpsuit that she had borrowed from the laundry team. 

It was form-fitting but it allowed her to move among the ropes with little trouble. Back at the FI training pits, her team was used to getting around in next to nothing during physicals. They regularly trained together, both in civvies and their regulation uniforms so Anna hadn't thought twice about her current attire.

Now though, she felt exposed. She folded her arms across her chest and forced herself to look at him squarely.

Jim was studying her with an intense scrutiny.

An hour spent on the ropes meant that she was grimy and sweaty. The computer-generated breeze had done nothing to cool her down and she forced herself not to reach up and wipe her brow or to look at the mirror to her side. Her limbs were throbbing, though not painfully, but it had been awhile since her last ropes course.

"I just needed to stretch," she said calmly. "I was in no danger."

"Bullshit. You weren't using a net," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. He looked both angry and incredulous. "You could have slipped and there would have been nothing to break your fall. Or you could have gotten stuck and cut off your circulation. You could have gotten a cramp up there and broken your neck."

His expression dissolved any sense of embarrassment she had about her appearance - he had no right to be worried about her or to chastise her as if she were a child.

"I know what I'm doing," she snapped, uncrossing her arms. She felt herself move into a defensive stance. "Trig was here to watch out for me and the program is set to safe. I'm an expert on-"

"Those ropes are fifty feet high. I don't care how well you think you know-"

"Thirty feet. If you're so concerned about the effectiveness of your ship's safety measures perhaps you should resolve that before-"

"I'm not worried about my ship," Jim bit out. "Or her safety settings. We have a perfectly good gymnasium on deck-"

"That deck isn't equipped with a ropes-"

"Captain Kirk," Trig said. His mellow voice sounded almost amused. They both looked at him and Anna saw that he was struggling not to smile. However, she knew Jim would likely fail to notice the subtle quirk of his mouth. "The next time we train in the holodeck, I'll make sure we use a net. This was my failing as a security officer. I should have insisted on the proper equipment, especially in consideration of her injuries. It won't happen again, sir."

Jim opened his mouth and closed it, seemingly taken aback by Trig's comment. He nodded and a faint, smug look began to settle in his features as he looked back at Anna. She felt her ire rise and she turned towards Trig, ready to reprimand him. He had deferred to Jim Kirk, of all people and she was not about to let him get away with it.

But before she could say anything, Trig spoke up.

"However, like the colonel said she's an expert in Andorian rope maneuvers. Even invented a few of the positions that're now being used in both 'fleets officer simulation courses," Trig said. His pale eyes were serene but cautious as he looked at Jim. "I've never seen her fall or slip once, even in the beginning of her training. Anna knows her strengths and her limitations. I trust in that. I hope you can as well.”

The smug look disappeared and Jim's face grew stormy but Anna knew he wouldn't press the issue. If there was anything that Jim wouldn't do, it was question her abilities. After all, he was the youngest captain in Starfleet history - he knew what it was like to have his youth held against him. He was defensive about his promotion and those of his senior staff.

It was clear that Trig had read Jim's file and had drawn the correct conclusions.

_ Good job, major. _

She glanced at Trig and he looked back at her, his face guarded. He seemed to relax when he saw that she approved.

_ But we'll still have to discuss the matter of you interrupting me. _

"I’ll use a net next time," she said. Jim narrowed his eyes and let out a short breath, but said nothing. "Now, you were obviously looking for me."

Jim pressed his lips together and she waited for him to gather his thoughts and speak first. She could see he was still upset which seemed odd until she realized that his anger went far beyond being worried about her.

_ Did it bother you that much, Jim? Seeing my profile? _

Suddenly the heat in his eyes, the careful way he studied her, took on a new meaning.

Jim had always been protective of her. The Jimmy Kirk she remembered had been a champion of the underdog, the victim and the defenseless. Anna was smaller and weaker than other children and any insult to her was something to be fought over. It was his natural reaction; growing up he hadn't had much in the way of protection so he took on that role. Those traits would have suited a Starfleet captain well and she could see the signs manifesting now. She supposed that because of their past history, his former feelings were even more acute.

It had been a calculated risk, to open up her psych files for his viewing, and she was hoping for a high return on the investment. The more preoccupied he was with her supposed mistreatment, the less focused he was on digging up information on Heretic and the FI.

Yet there was a part of her that was still ashamed by the sessions recorded in her profile. She had been humiliated, and degraded, her worst fears and weaknesses laid bare for anyone to see. She was using herself as both a controlling measure and as a sacrifice.

Sacrifices had worth only if they made you bleed.

Still though, it was hard to look at him face on, knowing what he had seen of her.

She pressed him, "Was there something you wanted from us?"

Jim glanced at Trig and then sighed. His shoulders were still tense but he seemed resigned.

"Yeah, actually," he said. "I wanted to see if you were still up for a tour of the ship. Trig is welcome, of course. But if you're busy then I can-"

"Actually, we're done here, right colonel?" Trig spoke up. He looked at Anna and she could see that he really was done, spending the last of his energy up until that moment. "Weren't you just saying that you were going to order me to bed rest?"

"That would be an abuse of power, wouldn't it?" Anna said. She looked at him fondly and had to stop herself from reaching out. She needed to touch him, if only to make certain he was truly okay but not in front of Jim. "But it is a good idea. You really should get some rest.”

Anna smiled at him and she could almost feel Jim's eyes moving back and forth between them. She knew he was tracking their conversation, studying the way they interacted and that was okay with Anna. Seeing her in a playful sort of mood might help set his mind at ease and keep him from slipping too far into a protective role. She needed him to be sympathetic and distracted, not personally concerned with her affairs.

It was a fine line to tread but it was the best weapon she had to wield.

"Seriously, go. Do I really have to make it an order?" she asked. Trig laughed and saluted and she shook her head at him, before turning back to Jim. "I'd like some time to freshen up but I would like a tour of the ship. Thirty minutes?"

Jim hesitated, his gaze darting to Trig, before nodding.

"Sure," he said. "That's fine. Do you want to grab something to eat afterwards? More than soup and fries this time, I mean."

Anna saw Trig's confused expression from the corner of her eye. 

She sighed mentally.

"That sounds fine," she said. "There's no need to wait for me, captain. I can meet you at-"

"Ten Forward," Jim said. His lips curved up in a half smile. "Our booth?"

Trig raised an eyebrow and there was a joke there, just on the tip of his tongue.

"I didn’t know it had an engraved plaque," Anna said, giving Trig a sharp look. He pressed his lips together but his eyes shone. She knew he would hold any comments until they were alone.

But still.

"That works."

"Perfect," Jim said. "And since I'm headed your way…"

"You don't have anywhere else to be?" Anna asked. Jim shook his head.

"I was going to swing by Engineering but that's only a few decks below," he said easily. "We can at least share a turbolift."

"How fortunate we are to have such a distinguished escort," Trig said, smiling at Anna. "Come on, let's get back to our quarters. We can continue tomorrow. With a net of course.

"Computer, save program. End."

"Confirmed," the computer said. "Current program saved."

The peaceful world darkened and then disappeared altogether, leaving all three of them in a dark room with softly lit grids. Anna was sad to see it all go. Something must have shown on her face because Jim looked sympathetic as he watched her. He made a move as if to say something but she looked away from him, embarrassed.

"After you, ma'am," Trig said brightly, gesturing towards the exit.

Anna walked past him towards the door, not bothering to acknowledge the wink he gave her as she did.

###


	10. The Team. The Tour.

"And this is our main observation area."

Jim led Anna into a large dimly lit space that looked as if it were mostly glass. Of course he knew it wasn't; the reinforced shields were made of much sturdier stuff and protected the ship and its inhabitants against solar pulses, flares, and other dangerous objects. But what it provided - a clear view of the stars, was breathtaking.

It seemed a million stars twinkled against the black velvet background of space and Jim couldn't help but feel awed by the sight before him. It reminded him time and time again why he loved his job and his life. After the hardest of missions, bruised and battered, he could find peace there. The irony was not lost on him. When he was younger, he hated Starfleet and the starry sky had meant nothing more to him than a reminder of all that had been taken away.

_ It was Anna who loved the stars. _

_ I was the one who was always ready for a fight. _

_ Now look at us. _

For so long, Jim knew he had been a little lost, unable to let go of the hurt and bitterness that came with being left behind again and again. But now he had his ship and his crew to ground him; he knew his place. It was odd but it comforted him to know that he was only a small part of something so much greater than himself. Whether he lived or died, the wide expanse of space would continue to exist, uncaring of him. It had taken him a long time to get to this point but for once in his life, he was content.

Well.

_ Almost. _

As the doors slid shut behind them, Anna walked to the far end of the room and for a moment it looked as if she were walking out into space itself.

She was outlined in stars. 

Jim followed her quietly knowing instinctively that she needed time to process the view.

During their short dinner and then throughout the tour, Anna had been quiet and pensive, leaving him to fill up the silence between them. She politely greeted the small number of his crew they’d run into but there was a stillness about her that he knew was off-putting. Most of the people on board the Enterprise were gregarious and friendly, lively and vibrant. Though it meant some folks rubbed against each other the wrong way at times, for the most part life on his ship was happy.

Anna seemed to have a peculiar effect on people. He tried to see her as others did, pushing aside their history. She was too aloof, her gaze too direct and too watchful, to be approachable. Jim suspected that it was intentional; Anna was self-aware enough to notice how people reacted towards her. She was very carefully putting up a wall between herself and his people.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jim said.

Anna leaned forward against the railing, her hands gripping the metal bar that stopped just a foot away from the window.

"It’s okay," she said. Her lips twitched. "If you like this sort of thing."

Jim grinned and she watched him from the corner of her eyes.

"Now I know you're lying," Jim said, gesturing to the view before them. He put his hands on his hips, looking at her expectantly. "You love the stars, Anna."

She looked at him, clearly amused, before returning her gaze to the view.

"I did."

"I remember," Jim said. "You used to drag me up to the roof of your house just to look at the night sky. I never knew what you saw up there. Guess I was slow on the uptake."

Anna made a vague noise of agreement and they fell into a brief silence once again.

_ Five days. I only have five more days. _

"Remember how we used to talk about the future?" Jim asked suddenly. He stared at her profile, willing her to turn and look back at him. "You were going to be a doctor. I was going to be an engineer. You'd have a white picket fence like the kind in those old archives. I'd have a dog. Murphy, I think. Or maybe Muffin."

Anna remained silent, staring fixedly at the view before her.

"I guess you could have an actual white picket fence these days," Jim went on. She was listening, despite her lack of reaction. "And a small house with a flower bed. Do you? With real wooden floors and antique doorways."

"I have an apartment in the Marina I haven't been to in six months.” Anna’s face was unreadable as she spoke. "Whenever I'm planetside, I usually stay at the FI headquarters. Officer's quarters. Easier that way."

"Well, I don't have a dog named Murphy or Muffin."

"We can't have it all."

"No," Jim said. "We can't."

Anna lowered her head slightly.

"You have a good thing here, Jim. You don't need me to tell you this but you should be proud of yourself. You've done so well."

Something inside of Jim seemed to grow hot and for a moment, everything in the room seemed illuminated. Brighter. Sharper. He huffed out a small breath, feeling embarrassed and proud at the same time.

"Thank you," Jim said earnestly. He reached out for her and then thought better of it. Instead he let his hand fall a small space away from hers on the rail. "That means a lot coming from you."

She shook her head. "It really shouldn't."

"What you say matters to me," Jim said. "It always has. That hasn’t changed."

"Why?" Anna asked. "Because we knew each other as kids? That's not reason enough. You don't know me. I might as well be a stranger to you."

"That's not true. You're not a stranger - you're Anna Demerin and I'm Jim Kirk and that still means something."

Her voice sounded almost sad. "Jim, people change. I follow orders that Starfleet would never even consider giving you but I choose to follow them gladly. I’m not someone you know anymore. I might not be someone you’d want to know.”

Jim frowned and shook his head.

This was no cry for help, no plea for understanding or false sentiment. She wasn't lying to him. Anna sounded as if she were merely stating facts as if it were true and undeniable and there was no room for argument.

"Bullshit," he said. "You think we all haven't done things we regret? That doesn't change who we are, it doesn't mean-"

"I didn't say I regretted anything."

He shook his head again. "Fine. Maybe you don't but that doesn't make you a bad person. It’s not going to make you someone I don’t want to know. I've done things that won't exactly put me first in line for sainthood either but I don't think I'm not worth knowing for it all.”

"There's a big difference in what I've done versus what you've done," Anna said. "You're Starfleet. You're an explorer, a mediator. I'm the furthest thing from."

"Then what are you?" Jim said. "What have you done?”

Anna stayed silent and Jim suddenly remembered the way Trig had looked at him when they were in sickbay. That blank, almost inhuman stare had been frightening...

Jim rubbed his eyes.

"Look, I've been thinking about this. We have things to work out. I need to know what happened between us and why you made the choices you did but we can't just throw away what we had. I can't. I don't think you can either. And I don’t want to just let you walk back into my life only to watch you leave again."

He turned his back on the view, focusing all his attention on her. 

"But a few years ago, I might have," he said honestly. "I might have lied to you or pushed you away. But as angry as I was at you, as angry as I still am, I never, _ ever _ stopped hoping you were safe and happy. We may not be able to have what we did back then but I'm willing to try for something. Are you?"

It hurt to say these things but he felt as if he had to make the first move because this version of Anna would not. He had to believe there was a part of her that couldn't be altered. He was hoping she still felt something for him, somehow, in some way.

He simply wouldn't consider the alternative.

"Are you?" 

Anna said nothing for a long while. It was so rare for Jim to bare himself like this to another person, to be this honest, because so often the risk wasn’t worth it. He was willing to die for his crew, his ship - and hell, he'd come close enough many times over. But this sort of sacrifice was so much harder than that. This was infinitely more painful. 

She drew in a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh.

"That was quite a speech, captain. Earnest and compelling. Pitch perfect tone. Superb.”

Jim forced himself to grin. "Glad you approve," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "How'd I do?"

"You could take on Macbeth," Anna said.

"I'm more of a Hamlet man.” He leaned towards her. "I meant every word, Anna. We could start over from here. Hell, we might be able to forge a new relationship between the FI and Starfleet major. Ambassadors Kirk and Demerin. It has a nice ring to it, right?"

Anna only shook her head, a faint smile on her lips.

"So, why don't you tell me a little bit about your team," Jim said. Anna frowned at the sudden change in topic and he couldn't help but feel a little satisfied at getting a real reaction from her. "It's not everyday the two great forces collide. We should document it for posterity."

"That's not dramatic at all."

"Half this ship thinks the FI is a ghost story," Jim said, partly serious and partly joking. "The other half are either terrified of, or are prejudiced against you. Maybe it's time we dispel all the myths and rumors and have a formal introduction."

Anna shook her head again.

"That's not a good idea," she said. "At least not now. This operation requires all of our concentration. Staging a Starfleet meet and greet in the middle of it all won't help us focus.

"There’s also the fact that my team isn't trained in diplomacy. They're soldiers. Pointing to them as examples of the Federation Intelligence won't exactly put your crew at ease. It may have the opposite effect and I think you know that. Why else did you refer to me as your old friend first instead of Federation Intelligence?"

Jim felt his cheeks flush and he cleared his throat.

"Okay," Jim said. "It's not like I was planning to parade your team around my ship but I would like my senior officers to meet them. It's a smaller group and my people _ are _ trained diplomats. They, out of all the people on this ship, need to be exposed to the Federation Intelligence."

"That's reasonable enough," she said, after a moment's thought. "So, what do you want to know about my team?"

"Anything," Jim said. "Everything. They're going to be on my ship in less than a week. What are they like? What will you need to prepare? Is anyone allergic to Tribbles? How do they like their coffee?"

Anna stared at him incredulously before rolling her eyes.

"You already know Greger," she said. "Security. He has a way of knowing how to handle a weapon just by looking at it, hence the call sign Trig. He drinks tea. Decaf."

Jim huffed out a laugh. "How long have you known each other?" 

"Since first year," she said. "He was top of the class in hand-to-hand combat and I was at the bottom. He took me under his wing. I think he got tired of seeing me get a beating."

Something in Jim's face must have shown the indignation that bubbled up in his chest because Anna shook her head at him.

"I would have been kicked out of the Command program if I couldn't defend myself. Besides, I got better thanks to him."

Jim said nothing but his eyes burned at the memory of her psych evals. What they had done was beyond merely questionable, it should have been illegal. But he couldn't admit that they had broken into her personnel files so he kept his silence.

"Commander Paloma Tanz, comms," Anna went on before she hesitated for a moment. "Perhaps you should alert your senior officers, captain. She's part Betazoid."

"What?" Jim said, shocked. "So she… She can read our minds?"

Anna looked uncomfortable. "I said part Betazoid. Paloma's abilities are limited. She can sense emotions, not thoughts. As long as no one on the ship is emotionally inclined towards murder and mayhem, there’s no need to worry. She's discrete. She'll only tell me what I need to know within the parameters of a mission. Nothing more."

"Okay," Jim said slowly. He felt uneasy, knowing that someone could read his emotions no matter what assurances Anna gave him. He made a note to speak to Spock and Bones and to do some research of his own. The last thing he needed was a stranger, a member of the FI, to sense what he was feeling.

Especially towards their commanding officer.

Anna looked exasperated. "Listen, Paloma can be difficult but she is nothing but professional. We call her Ice because... Jim, come on."

"Were you planning on telling me one of your officers was an empath?" Jim asked. "Or were you hoping I wouldn't notice?"

"I would have told you," Anna said, lifting her chin. "Of course, I would have briefed you."

Jim looked into her face for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I believe you," he said, gesturing for her to go on. "You call her Ice because?"

"Because it takes awhile for her to warm up to people," Anna said. "She's not an open book like Trig is."

"You think Trig is easy to read?"

"Commander Alessander Levine, navigation," she went on. "He can find his way around anywhere planetside. Call sign North. He's good at getting out of tight spots and has near eidetic memory."

Jim tilted his head to the side, bemused, and Anna shrugged.

"You wanted to know, right?" she said. "Commander Matthew ven Christie is my medical officer. He's a brilliant doctor and engineer."

"That's an odd mix, isn't it?"

"It comes in handy," she said. "They're not completely opposing disciplines, after all. He's good people. Just don't take anything he gives you without asking me first."

It didn’t look like Anna was joking.

"Duly noted," Jim said, raising an eyebrow. "And does he have a cool nickname too?"

Anna scowled at Jim, her fine features scrunching up and he grinned. Without meaning to, he moved closer. She looked younger for a moment, unguarded and completely herself. 

"They're tags, captain," she said. She sounded a little defensive which amused him greatly. "We use them in lieu of our real names during missions. It's either that or Alpha, Alpha one, Beta one and so on."

"Okay. So what’s the good doctor's call sign? "

"Venom. Ven," she said. Jim made a face. "The general rule of thumb is you don't take anything he gives you outside of his official capacity."

Jim laughed and the corners of her mouth twitched again, as if she were trying to suppress a smile.

"Finally there’s Lieutenant Commander Ben Cormick," she said. "He's the best at deciphering and dismantling xeno-technology. He and Ven make a dangerous pair."

"And you call him..."

"Spark.”

Jim burst into laughter. “Like a dog?”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead and make fun of him to his face. I’d love to see what happens next.”

Jim stifled the rest of his giggles and then shook his head. "Sounds like an interesting group. Small though, if this operation is so important."

"The bigger the team, the more variables," Anna said. The half smile disappeared and she stood up straight. "My officers all have their own teams, specializing in various areas. I usually stand back and direct but for sensitive operations, depending on what needs to be done, the Federation Intelligence prefers deploying small, very focused groups."

"One unit, all in sync," Jim said. Anna looked at him with approval.

"Yes. My team."

Jim understood. These were her people, the ones she had chosen to lead. He heard the obvious affection in her voice and knew that whatever it was she was up to, she needed these specific officers to stand with her. It frightened him then because he knew instinctively that these weren't just trusted comrades in arms she would be willing to die for_ \- _they were people she was willing to die _ with. _ It was the same way he spoke about Spock or Bones or Sulu or any member of his crew; he saw it in the set of her jaw and the fierce look in her eyes.

Not for the first time did Jim wonder what it was she was doing.

_ And I will find out. _

"I'm going to guess that you get a special call tag too, right?"

Anna looked away and Jim could have sworn her lips were tilted slightly up again. "You can call me colonel."

Jim put his hand on his chest above his heart and gave her a pained look. "You wound me, Anna, you really do," he said. "You won't tell me what I'm sure is the best nickname ever?"

"Quit being a jerk," she said, feigning disapproval. Jim lowered his hand and looked at her.

"You know I’m just teasing," he said. He turned back towards the view, leaning his elbows against the rail. "Hey, it's okay not to take everything so seriously sometimes. The universe won't come crashing down if you, I don't know, smile. Or heaven forbid, laugh."

He leaned to the side and pushed against her slightly with his shoulder.

"And if it does?" Anna said. "Can I blame you for leading me to believe otherwise?"

Jim chuckled and nodded.

"Sure, I'll take that on," he said. "You can blame me when the universe ends."

###

Though proficient in 83% of the official Federation languages and regional dialects, Nyota Uhura was also quite capable of reading people's body language as if they were using words to communicate. It was a gift, her mother told her when she was a child; Nyota had an uncanny ability to understand others even before they had spoken. It went beyond intuition and was much more complex than a simple "gut feeling."

Nyota just _ knew. _

For example, she had known that Kirk (he would always be Kirk to her, even if Spock sometimes called him Jim) was upset after being in his ready room for nearly two hours during Alpha shift. Even though he walked out smiling, teasing Spock even, Nyota knew that something was wrong. There was a tightness around his eyes and his normally easy grin seemed forced. All throughout the morning, Jim Kirk had been tense and distracted. The others may not have noticed anything amiss with their captain, but Nyota did and she knew that Spock did as well.

She hadn't asked Spock what the matter was. She was a professional through and through; she would never use her relationship to wrangle information about Kirk.

Even though she knew Spock would willingly tell her if she asked, Nyota had a feeling that when Kirk requested the main bridge crew to take on the Gamma shift she would be able to find out for herself.

It was more fun that way sometimes. Being on the Enterprise wasn't all adventure and excitement. Sometimes it meant long weeks of tedium. Despite all the distractions the ship had to offer, she welcomed a little mystery at times.

And now she knew, as she studied the dark-haired woman by Kirk's side, that there was mystery abound. The main bridge crew - herself, Spock, Sulu, Chekov, and a few others included, were all now at their usual stations looking at the captain and his yet un-introduced guest.

"I'd like to thank all of you for taking on the third shift," Kirk said, his bright blue eyes shining with gratitude. Though Nyota would never admit it to him, she liked that Kirk was expressive. His eyes always seemed to say more than his words did. "I wanted to make sure everyone met Colonel Anna Demerin, who'll be on board as our guest for the next week or so. We're picking up the rest of her team on star base Gamma so I expect you'll see her and a few new faces around. The colonel is one of my oldest friends so I trust that everyone will treat her with the same respect as you show me, and as befits her station."

Nyota looked at Spock briefly, and he met her gaze steadily. She had heard about the incident that had taken place only a few days ago. After all, she was the one who received the encrypted alert regarding a rescue mission and she had passed along the captain's request for two, high-level personnel files and the subsequent denial of approval.

_ Colonel_.

There was only one organization she knew of that had that structure.

_ Federation Intelligence. _

Oh yes, this was a mystery indeed.

She knew about the FI, of course. It was silly to think of such an organization as a threat like some of her peers at the Academy had thought so. It made sense to her. Starfleet was not really militarized though they could be called upon in times of war. Nyota could see that the best way the Federation could really hold their own against hostile non-Fed planets was to have a dedicated intelligence-gathering entity. It might have been distasteful to some people but she was a realist.

She had never met a member of the FI but the woman standing before them now was not what she had expected, nor imagined, such an officer to be.

Instead of a gruff, over-sized muscled soldier, Anna (as Kirk was now introducing her to each person on the bridge) was graceful and elegant. Nearly the same height as the captain with a dancer’s build, she moved with a perfectly balanced gait, unhurried and stately.

On a purely shallow level, Anna was lovely. With her large gray eyes and dark hair, she was a study in contrast. However, there was something _ off _about her, a strange undercurrent to her presence that Nyota felt did not belong there. She was a little too controlled and her movements too fluid and smooth to be natural. It was as if she were holding herself back, slowing down so others could keep up.

It made people uneasy. It kept Nyota from getting a read on her, though her intuition was on alert.

It was clear Kirk noticed it too. His smile seemed a little nervous as he watched Anna and he hovered over her slightly, standing a bit too close, as if he were ready to step between her and anyone else.

Nyota was struck again at how different the captain was from the boy who had hit on her in that seedy bar so many years ago. He had grown up, though he was still brash and reckless and stubborn. He may have had a bed-hopping reputation during their Academy days and people may have written him off simply as the pretty boy with a glib tongue, but Nyota had seen the pure ferocity underneath. Kirk was aggressive and sharp and she had no doubt that while he may have had a chip on his shoulder, he would use all his considerable skills to reach the top of whatever mountain he decided to climb. He had irritated her at times but she admired his audacity and ambition. It hadn't surprised her when Kirk was given the captaincy of the Enterprise; he was someone who just could not admit defeat.

But despite the flashy, glittery surface of his personality Nyota knew that inside, James Kirk was unsettled. There was a wildness about him, a desperate restlessness that she saw underneath his calm, even gaze. She sometimes thought that he was always on the chase for something or someone and that hadn't changed throughout their time together. On each mission, it seemed that Kirk was eager for more than just adventure and danger - he was seeking something out.

_ And is this what he was searching for? _

Nyota kept her head down as she continued studying their guest. The other woman seemed unruffled and indifferent to all the attention she was being paid. She stood straight with her shoulders pulled back; Anna seemed used to the scrutiny and brushed it off. 

Or rather, she thought that Anna was distancing herself from everyone else.

Nyota could read the tension between them as she watched while Kirk introduced her to Navigation. They complimented each other like two sides of the same coin. 

Kirk seemed to burn with a white hot energy. He simply could not stay still. He was a force of nature, made up of heat and light and movement. 

Anna stood with an almost eerie stillness that Kirk was trying to compensate for.

As they drew closer to her station, she noticed how truly worried Kirk seemed. His body seemed taut and stressed, protective and possessive over Anna. He hadn't shown this behavior before, not towards any other partner in his past, and she couldn't help but watch them unabashedly now. Anna seemed aware of Kirk's proximity. When he got too close to her, she let him know with a tilt of her head, a brief look, a clenched jaw.

Nyota watched as they danced around each other, using unspoken rules.

"And this is my Communications Officer, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura," Jim said. There was pride in his voice as he listed her accomplishments. Nyota smiled at Anna but she only stared back, her face a perfect, pale mask. 

Now that Anna's full attention was on her, she couldn't help but shiver. There was no warmth in her gray eyes, no sense of interest or even curiosity, just a flat, hard stare. Nyota felt as if she were being dissected.

"It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant Uhura," Anna said after Jim fell silent. Nyota held out her hand politely and Anna shook it with a firm grasp.

"Likewise, Colonel Demerin," Nyota said. "I hope you're enjoying your stay?"

"It’s a lovely ship," Anna said simply.

"If you need to set up any additional outgoing transmissions, Lieutenant Uhura can help you," Kirk said. He made as if to touch Anna's arm but instead he hesitated, and then lowered his hand. "She can set up a secure line to anyone, anywhere if you need it."

A faint smile graced Anna’s lips but her gaze remained flat and expressionless.

"You must be the one I owe for the private connection to General Bishop," she said. “Security is of utmost importance to us and I know FI frequencies can be tricky so thank you.”

Despite her serious and formal manner, Nyota felt as if she were being mocked.

For a brief moment, she imagined Anna knew about all the behind the scenes re-direction of her comms lines. But that was impossible. Nyota was good at her job and she knew that she had covered her tracks well. 

Besides, there was no way for Anna to know anything about the ship. She had been beamed aboard with only the clothes on her back and according to Spock, those had been damaged anyway.

"Anna," Jim said. She glanced away from Nyota briefly and towards him. "I want to introduce you to my First Officer, Commander Spock."

"I hope to see you again," Nyota said. 

Anna’s smile lingered but her eyes were like chips of ice.

"I have no doubt you will," Anna said lightly. She stared at her for a beat longer before nodding then turned towards Kirk. 

Nyota watched her walk away, feeling a heavy coil of dread twist inside her stomach.

###


	11. A Reaction. Clean Slate.

By the time they reached Engineering, Anna was exhausted. The ache in her limbs and the pounding in her head was becoming harder to ignore and she was hoping for an end to their tour. Her body needed to rest and she needed to mentally regroup.

As they walked around the monitoring room, Anna tried to distract herself.

The evening had gone well so far. People on the Enterprise seemed respectful and she was fairly certain her manner would head off any attempts at further questions. Anna had no use for interest from Starfleet officers. The only truly uncomfortable moment had come in the observation area. Did Jim really believe that after only a few days on his ship, she'd be ready to bare her soul? Wasn't the humiliation she experienced during her psych evaluations enough for him? 

It made her resent him, that he wanted more from her.

_ So tired, I need to rest, I need to lie down… _

Anna bit her tongue as Jim spoke about the design of his ship and she took in slow, deep breaths. Despite the calm facade she projected, she felt as if she were slowly unraveling. Her emotions and physical state were beginning to affect her thinking process. Jim was only being himself, earnest and open. She had no reason to be angry at him and she knew this.

Logically, she had no reason to be upset. 

_I need to rest_, Anna thought. _ I'll slip if I don't. _

She felt as if her body was betraying her and she wished again that Ven was there. 

He could fix her. 

He _always _fixed her. 

Jim touched her shoulder and she looked at him, realizing he was asking her a question. "You don't look so well."

Anna quickly schooled her features, betraying nothing of her racing thoughts.

_ Trig was right. _

_ The resemblance is clear._

"I'm fine," she said. She looked into his eyes briefly and then up at the soaring pipes and glowing tubes around them. Clean and perfect and all in order. "It's very impressive."

Jim smiled, but there was a wariness in his gaze that she did not like. He didn't believe her. When he opened his mouth next, she knew that he was going to ask-

…_ back off leave me alone just leave me alone and back off… _

-what the matter was but suddenly his expression changed as he looked over her shoulder.

"Scotty!" he called out. His smile was genuine now, open and happy, and he waved towards someone on the platform behind them. "I want you to meet someone. Bring Gaila with you."

"Aye, captain, we'll be right there!"

Anna heard footsteps coming towards them. "That was Scotty, my Chief Engineer," he said, clearly fond of his officers. "And Gaila, who's essentially his partner in crime but a brilliant engineer. Scott's a bit eccentric. Actually, they both are but-”

"Hallo, captain!"

Anna turned around to face their visitors.

_Oh, shit._

With no small amount of panic, Anna saw the Orion woman first, her bright green skin and friendly, open smile and-

_ No. _

_ Oh no, no no... _

“Stay back!” Anna tried to back away, holding up her hands in an effort to keep them from coming closer but the damage was done.

Agony swept through her like a tidal wave and she was drowning again.

_ Make it stop, make it stop, make it... _

Anna dimly heard Jim shout and then his arms were around her, keeping her on her feet. It was as if something in her chest and her mind cracked open and she was helpless to stop it all from coming out.

Memories of conversations with Ven and hours spent on research filled her mind.

_ ...reaction to pheromones projected by certain species will cause complete deactivation of… _

_ ...extreme physical reaction could result in micro ruptures of nerve endings at the... _

She mentally recited the findings from the research they had conducted, trying to hang on to something that would keep her from being consumed by the-

…_ pain pain my head my head hurts I can't breathe I can't… _

"Anna!" Jim’s voice was in here but she couldn’t tell if he were yelling or if everything was too loud now, too much to bear. "Anna, look at me, open your-"

“Orion," she forced out through gritted teeth. She felt her knees give, as wave after wave of pure pain went through her head and down the rest of her body. Her hands tried blindly to reach for the railing but failed. She was only upright now because Jim was there, holding her up.

"Hurts…b-bad reaction to Orion, I can't..."

She was consumed with _ furydespairfear_; thoughts and feelings that she had been able to control with manufactured chemicals, the neuro-serum and other FI-sanctioned medication had been unleashed and she staggered, mentally and physically, under the overwhelming onslaught of a lifetime's worth of guilt and pain.

"I am so sorry," she heard the Orion woman say. Had Jim called her Gaila? 

Anna clutched at the memory, at the sound of her voice, struggling to maintain awareness.

"She is on neurosuppressants. So many, I can sense them inside her. My pheromones react badly to such things. They counteract unnatural controlling substances in humans-"

In the back of her mind, Anna observed what was happening with a clinical detachment. She knew what was happening and had only herself to blame. After all, she had helped Ven develop most of the suppressants.

Emotions had no place during missions, especially in senior officers. They knew the power that emotions had over people. It made them fearful, caused them to break rank, disobey orders and could lead to death. The more critical the mission, the higher the psychological impact.

Which was why they all took neurosuppressants for emotional responses, dampening pain reactions, controlling adrenaline levels and improving physical reactions, and many, many others.

Anna had been taking them with good results for years but the recent circumstances, the danger they all had to face... It had all become too much to handle. 

She knew what she'd done was risky. Creating and using untested formulas to moderate and inhibit stress-related emotions like fear and sadness. With Ven’s help, she made something stronger and yet far more volatile. 

Anna was used to being her own guinea pig and she had Ven to watch over her in most cases. 

The circumstances that had brought her aboard the Enterprise were unexpected. She hadn't been away from their medical team for this long. They had come up with an anti-suppressant but that was beyond Anna's reach now.

To wipe her system clean in one shot through any other means would be too much of a shock to a human body, and she wasn't sure how anyone would react if something like that took place. 

They had taken their best guess though.

On paper, it was a painful, overwhelming process; irreparable damage and death were strong possibilities.

But now it seemed that exposure to Orion pheromones would provide Anna with first hand experience of how it would feel to be stripped of every defense she’d been able to build up over years. To be physically purged of everything she had become dependent on for so long.

_ I should have known, I should have known, I should have... _

_ ...not part of his senior crew should have looked it up though I should have... _

If it had been someone else or if she could even speak clearly, Anna would have asked to record the reaction. 

As the last vestiges of her control slipped away, she mourned the wasted opportunity for research. Anna felt as if a vice were tightening itself around her head and she heard herself gasping for air. Something in her chest twisted and it was if she could feel her heart ripping in half inside of her.

Rational thought fled then, replaced by pure feeling. It was so hard to breathe through the pain. How could anyone do it? How could anyone continue breathing?

How could _she?_

"Get Bones now! Scotty, get him the fuck down here now!"

…_ hurts I can't do this I can't… _

"Gaila, get away from her. I know you didn't mean to hurt her but you have to go! Help Scotty get Bones…"

…_ I'm so scared I can't do this I'll fail… _

"Anna, come on, sweetheart. Look at me. _ Breathe_. Come on, come on!"

She heard Jim's voice but it was distant; unimportant now.

Anna felt wetness on her face, felt her teeth snap open and close without her control, felt her limbs tense and fight. 

She had never been so helpless. She had never felt so weak.

"Hurts," she pushed out, “S-stop. P-please.” 

She felt hands on her face and Anna clutched at Jim, her fingers scrabbling for something to hold on to. Was she screaming? She tried to open her eyes - was that blood on his hands? Did she claw at her own face? Where had the blood come from? 

Her throat hurt.

_Everything_ hurt. 

She felt herself being lowered and she pressed her wet face against the crook of his neck, needing to feel someone against her. She needed to be held because it _ hurt _ and she was all _ alone and so scared so scared and is this how it feels to give up… _

"Sweetheart, it's okay." Anna felt herself being rocked back and forth. She started to laugh. She felt as if she were being flayed from the inside out, physically and mentally but it was all so suddenly ludicrous. She was going to die because she messed up, because she hadn't done a full check on the Enterprise's roster.

_ Stupid, my fault, all my fault... _

"I'm here. It's okay. You're okay."

Was she shaking? Jim's arms tightened around her, holding her in place and she struggled to draw in a breath. 

He was holding her too tightly. 

Not tight enough. 

She needed him. 

She needed to get away.

"Just hang on, Anna. Stay with me, okay? That's right, stay with me."

But she didn't _ want _ to. All she wanted to do was fade away and just stop_. _

"No, Anna. Stay with me. You can't stop, Anna."

Had she said that out loud? Didn't he see how tired she was?

"No, Anna, come on. Open your eyes!"

She let herself go limp, felt the slow arc of her head falling back and it was nice not to have to stay upright anymore. Her arms dropped down and she felt one of her hands hit the metal floor. 

The pain was a distant thing now, a blessing.

Why were they on the floor? She was oddly detached from everything. Her chest still hurt and her head felt like it was being sliced and torn apart but she didn't care. The edges were blurring and that was good. The colors were fading. 

Even better.

"Anna?"

Was that Jimmy? What was he doing here?

"Don't do this, don't do this, come on. Open your eyes."

She left Jimmy behind. She did a very bad thing. She hurt him. She didn't deserve to hear his voice but it was nice to know he was there.

…_ should tell Ven the pheromones of the Orion female negate neurosups 5631… _

…_ so many things I regret I lied about that I regret…_

…_ emotional balance has been jeopardized and I am now experiencing withdrawal and delayed shock trauma to…_

She heard voices, yelling and then-

Nothing.

####

"What in the hell?" McCoy muttered as he stared down at the medical scanner in his hand. He glanced down at the unconscious woman on the bed and shook his head.

The results from her scans simply couldn't be right. It just had to be a mistake.

_ How could this be allowed to happen to someone? _

He reset the device and began to scan her again.

On the other side of the bed, Jim looked worriedly at McCoy. Still wearing that day's uniform, now covered with drying blood, his normally handsome face pinched and tight with worry. 

Oddly enough, McCoy thought it made his friend look younger.

"What's wrong with her?" Jim asked. His hand was gripping Anna’s tightly.

"Ease up on the death grip, Jim," he muttered, looking back down at the readings the scanner was spitting out. "You'll mess up the biobed settings."

Jim drew back his hand with a start, as if suddenly afraid to touch her and McCoy sighed.

"I didn't say you had to let go.”

"What's wrong her with her, Bones?" Jim asked again. His fingers curled around hers again, as if he couldn't help himself. 

McCoy said nothing about this. Instead, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Now was not the time to analyze Jim's behavior. The scanner beeped and he looked down at the results.

The readings were the same as before.

"I can't say for sure until I do a full scan," McCoy said, finally putting the scanner down. He looked up into Jim's bloodshot, frightened eyes. "But it looks like certain areas of her brain have been heavily affected by… Something. There's anomalous neural activity that I can't explain right now."

"I told you Gaila said she sensed neurosuppressants in Anna," Jim said. "And before she… Before she passed out, Anna was muttering about Orions and bad reactions. I think. I mean… Before the blood. I got a little distracted then."

McCoy made a soft noise of disapproval as he put the pieces together. The FI officer had something foreign that changed the chemical balance in her body, giving her the ability to heal quickly, increase pain tolerance and possibly control certain psychological and physiological responses. Though he had initially focused on her blood work, he now saw it was only the tip of the iceberg. He suspected that there was an underlying controlling factor in her system, something that kept the foreign substances in her central nervous system in check. 

The blood transfusions, combined with the hemopurifier sessions, must have altered that balance. _ Something _had caused vessels to burst behind her eyes, in her ears, in her nasal cavities… She’d also had severe seizures that caused her to bite down on her tongue and lips. She’d dig into her own temples with her fingers, as if trying to extract something inside. Several sessions with multiple regenerators had fixed most of the superficial damage but McCoy was still worried.

_ Her condition was already compromised; exposure to Gaila must have tipped her over the edge. Some sort of violent reaction... _

It was a fascinating case and there were certain tests he wanted to run but he knew he shouldn't. It was too early and he wasn't thinking clearly.

_ My patient is not a science experiment or a subject for a paper. _

He had been roused out of bed a little more than an hour ago by a frantic Scotty whose accent had become so thick that it had taken almost a minute before McCoy could get a recognizable word out of him. He hadn't panicked but he hadn't exactly taken his sweet time to get to Engineering either.

Proof was in the fact that Doctor McCoy was currently standing in the middle of the medical bay still wearing the t-shirt and frayed sweatpants he had put on before climbing into bed that evening.

Jim had been clutching Anna's limp form, begging her to wake up by the time McCoy had reached him. Something in his gut had twisted at the sight of the captain nearly hysterical. He had seen Jim face obvious danger with nothing more than a smile and a glint in his eye. McCoy knew the kid was brave. To see him breaking down was more than disconcerting.

"Well," McCoy said, looking back at the figure on the bed. "Her cortisol and serotonin levels are out of whack. Same goes for norepinephrine and dopamine levels."

"Those have to do with mood and memory, right?" Jim asked and McCoy nodded.

"Yeah, mostly. She's been using drugs to regulate or control her mental and physical reactions," McCoy said. "Right now, she has extremely high levels of enkephalins going through her system."

"Pain dampeners?" Jim said. McCoy raised an eyebrow and Jim almost looked defensive.

"See, I listen to you, Bones," he muttered and McCoy snorted.

"Right, Jim. In essence they help dampen pain signals received by the brain," he said. "They were already at high levels when we first got her in here but now they're at a dangerous point, causing the opposite effect. Whatever it is inside of her was carefully managed to balance out the other chemicals. That balance is gone now. She's undergoing severe withdrawal. Not to mention the fact that her body is trying to compensate for-"

The bed started to beep and Jim drew in a sharp breath. If she were awake, McCoy knew Jim's grasp would be painful. McCoy quickly checked the readings on the side panel.

"What is it?"

"Epinephrine count is skyrocketing. Her heart's under stress," McCoy said tersely, more to himself than to Jim.

He turned and grabbed a hypospray off a table and rushed across the room to a side cabinet, feeling Jim's anxious gaze on him as he did so. McCoy pulled out a small tube containing a cloudy liquid and inserted it into the spray. He knew he should take more tests to make sure anything he gave her wouldn't react badly with the other foreign crap in her body but with her already elevated stress levels, he was afraid that she would crash. 

Her heart rate was going too damn fast and no one, not even Anna and her bullshit Federation Intelligence-enhanced system, could survive that.

The beeping grew faster, more insistent and McCoy whirled around, ready to sprint across the room when Anna sat up. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked wildly around, gasping for air. The panic on her face was unmistakable and she clutched at her chest with one hand.

"Holy shit!" McCoy cried out, nearly dropping the hypospray. He felt as if his own heart had stopped. 

Anna looked at his face briefly before spotting the hypospray in his hand. Fear made her eyes widen and her entire body seemed to tense, ready to fight or take flight. 

McCoy barked at Jim: "Get her back down and put the restraints on!"

Jim, who had jerked backwards from the bed, put his hand on her shoulder meaning to push her back but she twisted away, making her way off the bed in one surprisingly quick movement.

The beeping stopped but Anna's hip slammed into the table and she crumpled at the hard contact. She bent forward and it was enough of a pause for Jim. He jumped across the bed and Anna didn't have time to move away before he grabbed her arms and shoved her back against the wall. 

She gritted her teeth and shoved at him but Jim leaned forward pressing his entire body against hers.

McCoy could see the very clear annoyance on her face as she struggled to free herself.

_ She's not trying to hide anything now, is she? _

_ Maybe she can't. _

McCoy had a flash of intuition then. He didn't want to have to restrain her, that was just his knee jerk reaction after years of having to deal with panicked, uncooperative patients (Jim being the worst and most frequent offender). He decided to take a different approach. 

Anna was clearly scared, maybe a bit disoriented, but she seemed more bothered by Jim than anything else.

_ Damn fool is more panicked than she is. _

McCoy would give it at least a try before working with Jim to force her back down on the bed or calling security.

"Get off me, Jim," she said. She tried to shake off his grasp again but he held on. She looked at him defiantly before jerking her chin at McCoy. Her breaths were too shallow and quick for his liking. "What is that?"

McCoy lowered his arm and held out the hypospray. She stared at it before looking back up at his face, searching.

"I need to get your adrenaline count back down to a safe level," he said. He kept his voice calm and soft as he moved towards her. "You're having trouble breathing, right? You know your heart is racing and you can't control it anymore, can you? That scares you so your heart beats faster. See where I'm going with this?"

The fear left her face and he could almost _ see _ her thinking.

"Metatenolol or Benzo-propranolol?" Anna said, sounding breathless. McCoy blinked in surprise but nodded.

"Benzo-propranolol."

"I don't have tachycardia." She was beginning to wheeze but her eyes were steady on McCoy.

"I didn't say you did," McCoy said, still using his calm, soothing voice. As he made his way closer, he could see that Jim's fingers were digging into Anna's arms and that his gaze never left her face. He wondered briefly if he should sedate the captain instead. "But you have about 90 seconds before you drop and have a myocardial infarction. Are you allergic to betablockers?"

She shook her head and McCoy could see the color in her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink. Her breaths were shaky now and he could see her eyes becoming glassy and unfocused. In contrast her lips were growing pale.

"Good," McCoy said and he held up the hypospray. "Jim, let her go."

Jim glanced back at him, confused but took a step back when McCoy glared.

Just as he suspected she would, Anna didn't try to escape again. Instead she turned towards McCoy and pulled up her sleeve, baring one of her arms. McCoy pressed the hypospray against Anna's skin, releasing the medication.

Anna closed her eyes briefly and she sagged against the wall. McCoy waited, hoping the drugs would take and felt a weight lift off his shoulders when she took in a deep, welcomed breath. She took another one and he saw the relief in her face as she opened her eyes.

"Better?" McCoy said after a moment.

"Heart rate's still fast but slowing," she said. She rubbed her chest over her heart and she took another breath, slow and deep. She gave him a small grateful smile and he nodded at her before motioning to the bed.

"Now, can you tell me if I should expect any harmful side effects from the BP running up against the other weird shit in your system?" he said.

"I should be fine for now," Anna replied, making her way back onto the bed. She sat up on the edge, taking in steady breaths. "Thank you."

"Do you remember what happened?" McCoy asked, watching her closely.

He found it remarkable how much more present Anna seemed now. He didn't quite understand how neurosuppressants worked. They were strictly prohibited in Starfleet but McCoy had a feeling that the Federation Intelligence played by their own rules. He could grasp the science behind them though and the results were variable. He hadn't thought that emotions could be controlled but as he looked at Anna, he began to wonder.

There was still a watchful, hesitance in her face but it was tempered by a vulnerability that had not been present before.

She glanced at Jim briefly before nodding at McCoy.

"I think so," she said. She gestured to the tricorder McCoy had been holding. "I had a seizure. What are my readings, doctor?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad you remember that I’m a doctor," he said gruffly. "Because it means I don't have to tell you a goddamn thing. However, you are going to tell me what it is exactly that made you crash earlier and caused the Scotty to drag me out of bed at twenty-three hundred hours."

Anna looked at him thoughtfully, considering. Clearly whatever it was in her only enhanced her natural abilities. Jim had said she was a genius and it was actually pretty clear to McCoy that she was probably much more devious than Jim gave her credit for. But he couldn't help but wonder just how much of the cunning, calculating gleam he had seen in her eyes before were due to the unknown substances and how much of it was inherent.

"I think you already suspect, Doctor McCoy," Anna said after a moment.

McCoy snorted. "Yeah, I know what_ I _ think," he said. "But I can't help you if you don't tell me."

"Then you can't help me because I can't tell you. It’s classified," Anna said. "But I'll be fine now, as long as my heart rate stays steady."

"Anna-" Jim said gently but McCoy glared at her and cut him off.

"I don't think you understand," McCoy said, taken aback by her response. "If you don't tell me what it is in your system that reacted that way to Gaila, then it's possible that you might have another seizure. She's not the only pheromone-emitter on this ship. I don't think I have to remind you that it's been less than five days since you woke up from a goddamn _ coma. _Your hormone levels are irregular as it is and your body is already under a lot of stress. Anything else goes wrong and you. Could. Die."

"I won't," Anna said, and she seemed strangely confident. But still. McCoy could see the fear lurking underneath her confidence. She wasn't outright lying to him but she wasn't telling him the entire truth either. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you anything more than that."

"Colonel Demerin, you're on Starfleet property therefore under my direct jurisdiction," Jim said suddenly. McCoy looked at him in surprise - the tone of his voice rang with authority.

Anna turned to Jim in surprise.

"You're not the only one who knows protocol. Under Starfleet major authorization code 453, section eight, I order you to relinquish medical information pertaining to the health and wellbeing of all sick personnel. Denial of this information can and will lead to court martial and imprisonment if these persons are in immediate danger of death."

Outrage bloomed on Anna's face, making her cheeks turn pink again.

"That only applies if the person in question can't speak for themselves," Anna said, her voice rising. Her hands curled into fists on the bed. "I'm more than capable of speaking on my behalf."

"Doctor McCoy, would you agree that your patient is under the influence of an unknown substance?" Jim said, turning to McCoy. McCoy looked back at him, eyes widening in comprehension.

_ Oh boy... you are asking for trouble, kiddo. _

"I'm not impaired!" Her voice was beginning to sound hysterical and she looked downright scared. McCoy shook his head, feeling slightly ill. He didn't like these fucking mind games but he could understand why Jim was doing what he was. 

He just didn’t think it was entirely necessary.

"She seems in control of herself..." McCoy glanced at Anna and faltered for a moment. Something in his stomach curled at the look of utter betrayal and defeat in her face. It seemed she already knew she was beaten. "I really don't think she has trouble acting in her own best-"

"But you can't be sure, without any doubt, that your patient is able to rationally assess her own situation without interference," Jim said. 

McCoy opened his mouth to respond but then hesitated.

_ Dammit! _

Jim’s expression was triumphant. "By withholding information about her condition, does your patient pose a danger to herself?"

McCoy glared at Jim, unhappy that he was being forced to answer a certain way. He didn't like being pushed. Some things were not easily answered by a simple yes or no.

"Yes, however-" McCoy began but Jim cut him off.

"Thank you, doctor," he said. "That's all I need."

He leaned forward and stared down at Anna and McCoy couldn't help but admire the way she held her own. Jim Kirk could be damn intimidating when he needed to be but it was clear she had grit.

Still.

McCoy couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"Colonel. Again," he said firmly. "I order you to give Doctor McCoy the information he requests. If you disobey a direct command, there will be repercussions."

"Jim, there has to be another way to-" McCoy fell silent at the warning look Jim threw at him before he turned back to Anna with his hands on his hips. She looked away and sighed.

"I can't," Anna said simply. "My medical records are confidential and open to the FI only. I can't give you anything."

Jim nodded, as if he expected her answer and turned back to McCoy.

"Doctor McCoy, you're to keep your patient under observation until further notice," he said. "She's not to leave this area without direct supervision nor is she allowed any outgoing transmissions beyond this ship. You can take whatever samples you need to determine how best to treat your patient."

"Understood, captain," McCoy said. Anna stared at Jim with a stony expression but there was nothing cold about it; it was hot rage through and through.

"You think you're doing this to help me?" Anna said. "You actually think-"

"I know I am, Anna," Jim said. McCoy saw a brief flash of anguish in his eyes. It was clear Jim didn't enjoy this. "If you won't let us-"

"So you'll just force my hand? Why don't you just put me under arrest and skip all this bullshit?"

"You have a choice," Jim said angrily. "You always had a choice and you've done nothing but put up a shitload of smoke and mirrors every time I try to help you. I'm trying to reach you, I'm trying to give you what I can and I'm sick and tired of you not-"

"My orders supercede anything you-"

"This isn't about your fucking orders!" Jim exclaimed. His body seemed to vibrate with energy. "This is about you! I don't care what your orders are. Don't you get it? You're no good to anyone if you're dead. If you don't help Doctor McCoy, if you don't give him the information he needs, then I'm dropping you and Trig off at star base Gamma. And I will make sure you're kept under medical care there. You can hitch a ride with another starship and delay your mission. _ I am giving you a choice_."

"You do that and I can guarantee you that General Bishop will do everything in his power to pull your captaincy," Anna spat. She wasn't lying down so the biobed couldn't get a clear reading from her but McCoy could see that she was beginning to gasp for air again. She glared at Jim, clearly not bothered by her condition.

McCoy picked up the hypospray though and began to calculate the right type of sedative to use and dosage. He slowly moved to the side, thankful that Jim held her full attention and quietly opened a drawer. He pulled out a small tube and inserted it into the hypospray.

_ Just in case. _

Jim glanced at McCoy for a moment but quickly averted his eyes.

"Bishop can do that. And if you do anything to jeopardize my mission, I will personally make sure you never step foot on any ship again. It doesn't matter if I live or die, Trig will just take on my responsibilities. This is more important than one person."

"I know you have some misplaced loyalty to the FI but it's not worth this."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Anna said, her voice rising. "The Federation Intelligence is my-"

"Then enlighten me, Anna," Jim said. He was only inches away from her face and she leaned back, still glaring at him. "No more games. Tell me what I need to know."

It might have been his imagination but McCoy thought he saw disappointment and hurt flash across her face. She blinked quickly, as if thrown off and then her expression hardened.

Anna smiled then, a mean, mocking little smile. She put her hands on Jim's chest and shoved him, causing him to stumble backwards. McCoy gripped his hypospray tightly but Jim cast him a look that told him to stay put.

McCoy answered with a glare.

_ Enough, kid. She's reached her limit and so have I. _

"I see," she said in a low voice. McCoy heard the tremor underneath it though. "You want me to tell you what you _need_ to know? Oh, forgive me. I thought you were only looking out for my best interests. Guess I'm only good for what information I can pass along right? You are so full of bullshit. Everything comes down to what you can gain for Starfleet and it has nothing to do with trying to help me."

"That's not true."

"You're a liar," Anna said, pointing a finger at him. "I'm on _ your _ ship, remember? I don't have a choice. So just go away and let the good doctor take what he wants from me. After all, you just ordered him to. And after he's done then it can be your turn."

Jim stared at her, pale and furious and sad. McCoy knew Jim wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions were all there in his eyes. He supposed he wasn't really surprised when he saw longing there too, mixed in with all the misery. For a moment Anna and Jim just looked at each other, neither one backing down. Jim clearly had the upper hand, McCoy thought. Anna reminded him of a hurt animal. Wild and wounded and backed into a corner, afraid and all the more vicious for it.

Then suddenly, without a word, Jim turned around and walked away.

Both McCoy and Anna looked after him until the doors to the medical bay slid shut. McCoy sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand, feeling drained.

"I'm not going to force anything on you. Think you can get to sleep on your own or do you need a sedative?" he asked. Anna turned to him and he realized with a start she was trembling.

"Oh hell."

_ I am too old for this shit. _

He watched as she drew her legs up to her chest and rested the side of her face against her knees, turning away from him. He could hear her pained inhalations turn into wet hiccups and he put the hypospray on the table. He kneeled down and pulled a small, gray patient gown out from a bottom compartment on the bed and put it next to her.

"Here," he muttered. "I don't have a handkerchief but I think this will do."

“Fuck off.” 

But Anna didn't raise her head and he listened to her ragged, harsh breathing for a minute longer before making up his mind. McCoy sat down on the bed next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. At his touch, she drew in a shuddering breath that he felt underneath his palm but she didn't push him away.

He pressed his lips together in a tight frown.

Leonard H. McCoy was a doctor, after all. Providing comfort was the least he could do.

###


	12. A Discovery. An Exchange.

"Captain Kirk. Commander Spock. It's good to see you both."

Jim forced himself to smile and Spock acknowledged the greeting with a slight tilt of his head.

"Likewise, Admiral Pike," Spock replied.

They both stood at attention in front of the large display panel. Jim was glad to see Pike again but his heart just wasn't in it. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before; he spent the early hours of the morning tossing and turning, unable to decide whether or not he should lift the restraint command he placed on Anna.

He couldn't get the last image of her face, the full force of her disappointment directed at him, out of his mind. What hurt the most though, what really made him sick was the fear in her eyes.

She had been afraid.He was fairly sure she wasn't scared of _ him_, but the idea that he was the direct cause did not sit well with him.

Jim didn't know what to do with her anymore. It was clear she didn't trust him and he was sure she would never trust him again. After he had briefed Spock on what happened in Engineering and his decision, Spock had deemed his actions sound. Jim knew, the rational part of him knew that he had done the right thing. Placing her under Bones' care was the right thing to do. She needed help. She was sick.

The Federation Intelligence was at fault.

His former ambivalence toward the shadowy organization had soured into pure hatred. They had taken Anna from him and warped her so that she was nothing more than a puppet with a rank. Anna's personality, the warmth that he remembered, had been stripped away. His interactions with her during the past few days was proof and he was already thinking about what he had to do next in order to undo the damage they had done to her.

_ There has to be a way to get her out_, Jim thought as he stared at Pike. _ I'll figure it out.  
_

_Somehow. _

"At ease, gentlemen," Admiral Pike said. Jim and Spock relaxed.

"I have some information for you both that I think you'll be highly interested in. It involves the current mission of the two FI agents in your care and the rest of the agents you'll be picking up."

Jim glanced at Spock and nodded and they both sat down before the screen. They were in the ready room, with the door locked by captain's code only. When Starfleet requested a secure link, Uhura made sure that the ship's comms were set on high alert. 

Nothing could leave the room.

"Sir, we're all ears," Jim said, satisfied that his voice sounded calm and assured. He didn't want Pike of all people to see his inner turmoil. He didn't want to show an iota of weakness to anyone regarding Anna.

"The names you provided helped track down most of the information I'll go over today," Pike said. "It certainly allowed us to get further faster than we would if we were to use only the images you provided. Give my regards to Lieutenant Commander Scott; he did an excellent job getting into their systems. It's a distinction I'm sure no one else could claim and I'll make sure to keep that in mind the next time the FI gives us trouble."

Jim smiled. "I will, sir. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it."

Pike smiled back for a moment but his eyes were serious.

"Colonel Anna Demerin and Major Greger Jansen are operative leads in charge of a special task force within the Federation Intelligence, code named Tabernacle."

Spock looked at Jim with a sardonic sort of amusement. "It seems that General Bishop has a preference for using religious terminology."

"The Commander is right," Pike said, leaning back. It was clear to Jim that he was not particularly fond of the general. Jim didn't blame him. "General Bishop _ is _ in charge of Tabernacle. And yes, he certainly has a theme."

He looked down at his datapad briefly before continuing.

"Four and a half years ago, the Rigelians came across a yet un-warped civilization which Starfleet currently calls the Tressacks," he said. "It's a close enough approximation of their name. A highly developed, humanoid species, they were especially adept in biological and chemical sciences. So much so that the Rigelians took an interest in their advancements. Apparently, they specialized in bio-chemical development and cross-species replication."

Spock raised an eyebrow. Though he was looking at Pike, it was clear he intended his next words for Jim's benefit.

"The Rigelians have become increasingly aggressive in their pursuit for a cure of Tuvan syndrome, especially since their Minister of Defense has been affected," Spock said. "Their position as part of the United Federation of Planets has become strained in the past decade."

"Yes, that's true," Pike said. "The Federation is currently investigating more recent crimes that the Rigelians have committed against several other non-UFP planets. With regards to the Tressacks, the Rigelians originally asked that they focus their efforts on finding a cure for Tuvans. They attempted to enter in negotiations with the Tressacks. 

“In exchange for a cure, the Rigelians were willing to trade warp technology - something explicitly forbidden by the Prime Directive. However, the Tressacks are an intensely religious people and the manner in which the Rigelians appeared on their planet was a bad omen."

Something in Pike's face tightened.

"The Tressacks refused their request and in retaliation, the Rigelians proceeded to commit an act of genocide," he said. "There was a small uprising but it was quickly defeated. Only a portion of the population was spared. Mostly scientists, doctors and researchers and their families. They set the Tressacks to work, threatening their remaining population if the cure for Tuvan was not found quickly. To ensure the Tressacks had no chance for escape, they relocated the remaining population from their home planet in the Beta quadrant to planet J-311."

"Why didn't we step in?" Jim asked, sitting up. It was simply unacceptable for the UFP to stay uninvolved in the situation. There was no way the Federation, or Starfleet for that matter, would have sat back and allowed the Rigelians to continue. It was a clear provocation of war. "Why didn't the Federation do something before the Rigelians committed mass murder?"

"We were going to, Jim," Pike said firmly. "We had only just found out about the Tressacks and had already briefed the executive committee. At the highest levels, plans were being made to step in through several different means. However, the Narada incident took place before we could do anything and both Earth and Vulcan had to deal with their own casualties immediately afterwards. Starfleet… Well, efforts were redirected elsewhere for the time being."

Spock raised an eyebrow, noting the admiral's slight hesitation, but said nothing.

"What about the Andorians or the Tellarites?" Jim asked. "Or hell, even the Denobulans?"

"They were embroiled in their own political issues," Pike said. He sighed deeply and looked tired. "They agreed that the Rigelians had committed a heinous act but would not step in. Also, keep in mind that the Rigelians are in trade agreements with several UFP members."

"They were looking out for themselves," Jim said, disgusted. Pike nodded.

"In the end, most of the Federation planets opted out of direct intervention," he said. "During this time, it was found that a Romulan trade ship had discovered the Tressacks and their biological capabilities and headed for J-311."

"Always the Romulans, isn't it?" Jim said. He glanced at Spock and shook his head, before turning back to the screen and Pike. "What happened next?"

"It’s suspected that the Romulans informed the Tressacks about the Federation and their lack of action."

"And I'm sure the Romulans needed no help to turn the Tressacks against the UFP.”

"None at all. The Romulans took down the Rigelian guards on J-311 and protected the Tressacks from further attacks. The Rigelians fought back briefly but ran off with their tails between their legs when it was clear the Romulans weren't backing down. The Tressacks entered into an agreement with the Romulans. They weren't interested in warp technology. Instead, they turned their research towards biological warfare," Pike said.

"So they focused on revenge," Jim said flatly. _ And why not_? he thought. They had been exposed to hostile aliens, had the majority of the people killed, lost their home world and found out that the organization created to prevent that exact situation did nothing to help.

Jim couldn't exactly blame them.

"Which Federation species did the Tressacks focus on initially?" Spock asked quietly. Jim frowned and then realized what Spock was really saying.

The Tressacks had targeted their work towards the Federation specifically.

Pike passed his hand over his eyes briefly and shook his head. He looked older than Jim had seen him before.

"We have genetic information for all alien species on record. In fact, Earth holds the largest repository for xeno-biological data," Pike said quietly. He hesitated again. "Jim, it's a well known fact that Starfleet isn't as fortified as we'd like to be."

"Someone stole genetic samples for the Tressacks to use," Jim said. It wasn't a question. Spock looked at him and nodded and Jim realized Spock most likely knew what Pike was going to say next. He had already made the cognitive leaps to the only logical conclusion.

"It's unclear if the Tressacks are creating a pan-morphological plague or if it's specialized for each species," Pike said. "But what's known is that over a year ago, samples from all Federation member species were stolen."

"How was Major Daniel Gaines involved?" Spock asked.

Jim drew in a sharp breath, startled.

Daniel had been part of Anna's team. He had betrayed the UFP.

Pike looked surprised.

"Daniel Gaines was an FI officer with an outstanding track record that went missing recently," he said. "He's now been dishonorably discharged and is a wanted criminal. Now everything I've told you to this point has been fact. From this point on, we're wading into conjecture and I don't have any additional information to make this a complete briefing."

He glanced down at the PADD again before moving on.

"While Starfleet focused on helping the Vulcans rebuild, the Federation Intelligence took control of the investigation into the Tressack situation. They took the threat much more seriously than we did at that time, I'm afraid.

“In any case, when the samples were stolen, Gaines along with Major Jansen and a small strike team was sent to track them down. Somehow, the Romulans discovered them and attacked. Gaines was reported MIA, presumed dead by the FI. However, once it became clear that the missing samples were an inside job, they turned their attention back on Gaines.” 

"Admiral, you said once it became clear that the stolen materials required internal espionage," Spock said. "I assume then that someone within the Federation Intelligence suspected the loyalty of Daniel Gaines prior to the theft."

Pike nodded. "I'm not sure who but yes, that's what I've been told."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "As I've reported, we've been monitoring video transmissions from Colonel Demerin to General Bishop. She said they had been ambushed on J-311. She also admitted that Gaines was alive - something she was not expecting."

Pike considered this.

"I'm sure they suspect other conspirators. That brings us back to Tabernacle though. Jim, I'm not entirely sure why Demerin and Jansen were on that planet. The fact that there were only two of them makes me think they were scoping the area out and planned to return."

"Heretic," Jim said. Pike looked at him sharply and gestured for him to continue. "Anna mentioned Heretic being on the planet during the transmission. Knowing Bishop's style, I believe that's what they're calling the weapon or at least, the Tressacks' research."

"I've heard Heretic being bandied about. It's certainly plausible."

"Admiral, based on conversations between the captain and the colonel, Tabernacle consists of very specialized personnel. They are experts in weaponry, navigation, medical, communications and xeno-technology," Spock said. He paused and glanced at Jim before going on. "What is the purpose of Tabernacle?"

"What do _ you _ think they do, Spock?" Jim asked. It was clear that Spock had made up his mind but was holding his tongue.

"Tabernacle is the team the Federation Intelligence sends when they want certain operations dealt with in the dark," Pike said, in place of Spock. Jim turned back to Pike and frowned, suddenly feeling numb. He didn't want to know anymore, didn't want to hear what it was Pike had to say.

But he knew what it meant.

"They deal in extrajudicial actions," Spock said simply. "The colonel and the major have an interesting set of skills that would be favorable to clandestine missions. Upon their arrival aboard the Enterprise, I was able to study the design of their suits and weaponry before Doctor McCoy had them discarded. Physically, they are trained and well-armed for both long distance targeting and hand-to-hand combat. Doctor McCoy's findings based on his early testing on the colonel seem to indicate that they use neurosuppressants to suppress emotional output and to increase physical endurance."

"They're _ soldiers_," Jim said. "They have to know how to fight otherwise what good would they be to the FI? But that same training would help in reconnaissance work. Intelligence-gathering."

Both Spock and Pike fell silent and it seemed to Jim that something passed between them. Pike was watching Jim carefully.

"Jim, I understand you were close to Colonel Demerin," he began. Jim crossed his arms across his chest and sat back away from Spock and away from the screen.

"I get it. I'm not stupid," Jim said. "Anna and her team may seem tailor-made for assassinations. She may have changed but I _ know _her. There's just no way-"

"Jim," Pike said gently. "Tabernacle is the Federation Intelligence's weapon of choice when outright force can't be taken. That's what General Bishop is in charge of and that's why he's got the Commander-in-Chief's ear. It's why he's been able to bypass all the normal processes. I've heard rumors throughout the years about them. This isn't the first iteration of that team and it won't be the last. But this one in particular... This new group is especially successful in what they do."

Jim only stared at Pike, unmoving.

"Within certain circles in the Federation Intelligence, Colonel Demerin is well regarded for her loyalty, dedication to service and ingenuity," he went on. There was a twist to his mouth that Jim didn't like. "Others consider Tabernacle as nothing more than a group of very intelligent, highly-trained killers. I believe that the reason why the Demerin and Jansen were on J-311 is because they were sent to either gather information on a target or to actively neutralize a target. Likely both."

"You can say it, Admiral," Jim said. "You think Anna was directed to kill. But who was her target? She didn't know Gaines was alive until recently. So one of the Tressacks? The Romulans?"

"Perhaps we should not think about who the Colonel is being sent to kill," Spock said. He inclined his head to the side slightly, taking both Pike and Jim in his gaze. "But how many targets are involved?"

Jim felt a headache coming on and he ground his teeth together, willing himself to think before simply reacting. He turned to Spock and for a moment, forgot that Pike was in the room. It was hard to control his emotions, hard to control himself when he had spent all night worrying about the supposed _ killer _they were calmly discussing now.

_ I might not be someone you’d want to know. _

"Spock," he bit out. "I respect you, I really do but you don't know what you're talking about. She's FI but she's still on our side. She's still Starfleet! We don't condone mass murder and Starfleet wouldn't make that call. You of all people should get that."

Spock's expression hardened just a little and Jim winced inside. He knew he crossed a line but Anna wasn't there to defend herself. It was clear that Pike wasn't a fan of the organization but Jim wasn't prepared to tar Anna, or for that matter, Trig, with the same brush.

_ She can't defend herself because she's with Bones. _

_ Because I ordered her there. _

"Captain, you'll be picking up the complete Tabernacle team in four days," Pike said. There was a hint of a warning in his voice and Jim knew he was treading on thin ground now. "That’s an opportunity very few have. I recommend that you find out as much as you can about their mission and what they intend to do with the Tressacks. You have their lead officer at your disposal. Pull as much information as you can from her. I'll leave it up to your discretion whether or not you want to move forward with providing service to the Federation Intelligence."

Jim felt a band around his chest. Without outright saying it, Pike was telling Jim he could hold the FI team captive on his ship.

He was being told he could use Anna, just like the FI was using her.

_ Just like she's using me. _

Spock raised his brow. "Sir, if General Bishop does indeed have influence over the Commander-in-Chief, the repercussions of not complying with the Federation Intelligence's request-”

"It's the captain's ship, commander," Pike said firmly. "And the ship belongs to Starfleet."

Jim looked at Pike and then nodded curtly.

"Yes, sir," Jim said. "I understand."

"Look, there's a lot more here than I know," Pike said, looking oddly uncomfortable. "The FI operates under a very different set of values. They can be very single-minded when they have orders. Do not underestimate what they can and will do.”

_ So you're saying we might all be in danger. _

Jim only nodded though, not allowing his thoughts to show up on his face. He believed he could glean which portions were truth and which needed more information - that much was clear. What bothered him was Anna's relationship with Gaines. According to her personnel files, Gaines had been her first officer. He had to have been hand-picked by her. She had to have trusted him deeply on some level so how could she have missed his treachery? She was smarter than that, and from what Jim had seen, she was also highly suspicious.

On top of it all, Pike was saying that Anna was a killer which Jim just could not believe. It was one thing to kill in self-defense but it was another to purposefully take a life. The Anna he knew wouldn't, _ couldn't, _commit such an act. He knew Pike was biased and Jim could admit he had his own feelings towards the FI that painted everything they did with malicious intent.

But still. 

She just wasn't capable of what Pike was implying.

_ They tortured her when she was a cadet and then they changed the chemical make-up of her brain. _

_ She might very well be more than capable. _

Pike looked off the screen and frowned, before turning back to Jim and Spock. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short, gentlemen. I'll send you additional notes on the situation. Keep me apprised as things progress."

"Yes, sir," Jim said. He hesitated, glancing at Spock before leaning forward. "And sir, there are other matters I'd like to speak to you about. A personal matter."

Pike looked at him curiously before nodding and offering a warm smile. "Of course, Jim," he said. "Comm me tomorrow after your first shift."

Jim nodded and smiled back. When the screen went black, Jim stood up and straightened his uniform, looking down at his hands as he did so. He could still feel Spock's gaze on him, studying his movements and he sighed.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," Jim said finally. He looked at Spock. "I didn't mean-"

"You were upset," Spock said, his voice smooth and calm. "I was not offended."

"That's awfully magnanimous of you, Spock," Jim said. Spock raised his eyebrow and Jim laughed. "Seriously, I'm sorry."

"Your unnecessary apology is accepted," Spock said. He stared at Jim for a beat longer.

"Captain, I went through the rest of Colonel Demerin's psychological evaluation videos and I believe there is one in particular which you did not review.”

Jim frowned "And you think I should?"

"It concerns you."

###

"He's not mad at you."

McCoy worked quickly, each movement precise and clean.

"Alright, he might be mad at you but I think he's more frightened than anything else."

McCoy logged in the second sample he had taken in the past hour and slid the small amount of dermal tissue into the computer's slot. His hands moved efficiently over the screen's keypad.

"He gets like that when someone is hurt on away missions sometimes. Tenses up worse than a horse around a beehive. He hates seeing anyone in pain, prefers to be the one in the line of fire, you know?"

McCoy looked up at the tissue sample magnified on the screen, glancing briefly at the lines of results from the chemical analysis he had the computer run. He frowned, blowing up one image after the other, discarding some and studying others.

"Jim's the closest thing I have to a best friend these days but he's never once mentioned you and I think I know most of what makes him tick. But he keeps his cards close. Some things, he just doesn’t share. Mostly though, those are the things that hurt the most."

McCoy sighed and paused the tests. For a moment, he stared at the small tubes, little stasis chambers that held organic materials in an inert state, on the table. He was hoping that he would hear something, a shuffle of movement or even a sigh, but as the minutes passed, there was nothing.

Finally, he turned around to face the bed and Anna, though she was little more than furniture herself now.

McCoy had moved her to a different section of the medbay, closer to the lab area in an isolated room so he could quickly and easily run her samples through the computer without being bothered. He decided not to go back to his quarters and changed into a spare uniform in his office. There was no point in handing her off to be looked after someone else. He trusted Nurse Chapel but if something happened to Anna, he did not want that to be on anyone else's shoulders. 

Anna was clearly a top priority until she was off the ship. 

After Jim had stormed off, McCoy tried to help the woman as best he could but he knew he was a poor substitute for a familiar face. It made him supremely uncomfortable to witness a woman that upset. His ex-wife had clearly known this and used it against him several times during their divorce settlements. 

But McCoy could tell Anna wasn't used to breaking down either and that her own behavior had surprised her. In his opinion, she was in shock and her reactions were purely that: _ reactions_. She wasn’t acting, or planning, or thinking ten steps ahead. Anna had been vitriolic afterwards, giving McCoy short, snide answers that had them snapping back and forth at each other as he took more tissue and blood samples from her - a sure sign that she wasn't thinking with her normal care nor acting with her usual aloofness.

But that had been hours ago.

McCoy wasn't sure if it was the sudden chemical withdrawal that was causing Anna's current behavior or if it was something deeper, more intangible, but he wasn't fond of the listless, silent way she conducted herself now.

She was on her back, looking up at the ceiling with a blank stare. Her hands lay folded over her stomach and her dark hair, now completely loose from her ponytail, fanned out on the pillow underneath her head. Her face, pale and still, was once again that perfect doll's face he had seen when she had first woken up days ago. 

This time though, there was no artifice there.

She completely shut down as if she was unable to do anything else but stare at the gray walls. The slight movement of her chest and the slow blink of her slightly red eyes were the only indications she was still conscious.

McCoy had found it all deeply unsettling.

_ Don't think Jim's ready to hear from me yet but I doubt he'd want to be kept in the dark. _

He grabbed another sample retriever and inserted it into a sterilized hypospray and picked up a small bottle of a blue-colored viscous substance, moving towards the bed.

"I'll need some of your spinal fluid, Anna," McCoy said. "But like I said earlier, it's up to you to give it to me. I don't care what Jim said, I'm not going to force anything out of you."

He waited for her to say something but she only blinked. 

So far she had submitted to all his tests easily; he had taken her silence as acquiescence. But it made him feel queasy to feel her gaze on him as she allowed him to move her limbs around, take tissue samples and pick at her like she was there for his use only. 

He just knew that something was fundamentally wrong.

"Okay, sit up," McCoy said, gruffly. His unease usually translated as grumpiness and he felt his stomach churn as she slowly moved. But instead of stopping and waiting for his instructions, she turned and bent her head forward so that the back of her neck showed.

_ This is something she's done before. _

The thought made McCoy pause. Lumbar punctures were rare. Cadets had to submit to a variety of routine tests but this wasn't one of them. With certain infections it was necessary but otherwise most officers did not need to endure the painful process. After centuries of medical advancements, spinal taps were still highly uncomfortable but one of the best ways to quickly and easily examine fluids from and around the brain. Scans could only tell him so much, after all.

Fortunately the test took a significantly less amount of time and the procedure was much less complicated than those McCoy had seen in old holovids of pre-23rd century medicine.

Anna pushed her hair to the side, clearing off a wide expanse of pale skin and waited patiently. McCoy wondered at what it was that the FI were doing to her to make her familiar with the procedure.

His stomach churned at the implications.

The angle in which she sat, bent forward with her back towards him, made the straight line of her spine show through her sweater. There was barely any fat on her body and he made a note of another issue he wanted to check on. She was underweight for her height. Technically healthy, but still underweight.

_ The woman’s a walking shitstorm of issues. _

_ Can't imagine what her mental state must be. _

But he _ could _ imagine it, was the thing. The psychological training he had gone through years ago gave him that ability. He just didn't want to go there with her, not knowing all the facts around her situation.

"I think you already know this but the process can be uncomfortable," McCoy said. "I’ll try to make it quick. I'll take a sample from the first cervical vertebrae and then one from your lumbar vertebrae L4 and L5. Each procedure should take about ten minutes each and I'll make sure you have time to recover between each."

Anna said nothing as she stared down at the floor. She had taken off her boots earlier and the sight of her bare feet made her seem even more vulnerable. McCoy forced himself to look away from them and focus on the next steps.

"I'm putting a sterilizer and mild anesthetic to the surface area first," McCoy said. He wanted to talk her through the process, even though she seemed unaffected. He could do at least that. He rubbed the cool blue gel over the skin on the back of her neck, moving to her side so he could see her face.

"You know, I used to wish all my patients would shut up when they were here," McCoy said, watching blue slowly fade into her skin. "You can't imagine how goddamn whiny these so-called tough command types are until you drag their asses in for an annual but this is ridiculous."

Anna said nothing as McCoy reached up to see if the gel had been absorbed. He could feel his frustration and worry building inside at her continued silence and he huffed.

"Do all Section 31 agents take a class on giving the silent treatment?" he said. "I swear, you're giving me the heebie-jeebies with your silent act."

"That’s a misnomer," she said suddenly.

He stood still for a moment before clearing his throat.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. He touched the edge of where the gel had been and was satisfied when he felt nothing else there. 

Bones looked back at her face though, frowning.

"Section 31 is an insider's term," Anna said. Her voice didn't falter when he pressed the hypospray against her skin. "Wrong, of course, but still an insider's term."

"Well, what can I say? I'm a curious guy," McCoy said. He was relieved to the point of being ridiculous. If she was talking, she was fine and he didn't have to worry about having a patient - _Jim's fucking childhood friend -_ in a catatonic stupor. "And yeah, I looked into the Federation Intelligence. Can't exactly tell you that I liked what I read though."

"We don't pass out pamphlets. Whatever you found was likely wrong."

McCoy slowly pressed down on the spray, feeling something inside the device release and break past her dermis. He could see her tense but she didn't move, even as he knew the internal microtube was making its way down into her vertebrae.

"You know what they say though. Some of it's got to be based on truth," McCoy said. "Word was y’all have thumpin’ gizzards for hearts."

“What a lovely image. Was that something you picked up at Ole Miss?"

McCoy blinked. "How the hell did you know that I went-"

"Accent," she said. "Don't worry. It's nearly undetectable when you're calm. You grew up in Georgia though, right?"

McCoy said nothing and looked away. He stopped the tube from going further and started the suction process, watching as the hypospray slowly began to fill up with spinal fluid. It would take another seven minutes to get the complete amount and he knew that this was the most painful part.

"You can detect accents," McCoy muttered. "Of course you can. Why didn't I think of that? What else can you do? Got psychic powers? Manipulate reality?"

Despite his sarcasm and the hypospray at her neck, he could see the faintest upward tilt of her mouth.

"The regional distinction is clear," she said. Her voice was nearly a whisper and McCoy kept his eyes on her face as much as he could without jostling the hypospray. "My comms officer is much, much better at languages. And no, I don't have psychic powers or reality distortion abilities."

"From what I've read, your organization is actually looking into creating those abilities artificially in humans."

"Do we scare you, doctor?"

McCoy snorted and rolled his eyes. "Hell no, you don't," he said. "Not when the fruits of your research landed you in my medbay."

Anna closed her eyes. McCoy saw that the hypo was barely a quarter filled. Her face was tight with the effort of bracing herself and she stopped talking, pressing her lips together until they were almost white.

McCoy almost told her he could place her under sedation if she wanted, but she began to breathe, slow and steady and her face smoothed out. She was pure concentration now, seemingly focused inward on herself. 

"Too true," she said finally, opening her eyes. Her eyes were shiny and distant, as if she were looking at something only she could see. "I hadn't yet perfected the right balance of compounds. I was too eager."

"You did this to yourself?" McCoy asked, in disbelief. "Of all the irresponsible, stupid, reckless shit I have heard, this has to top them all. You willingly put something in your system that you weren't sure of?"

And then something else passed through his thoughts.

"Tell me, colonel," he said, as she stared at the wall. "You don't happen to have a degree in genetics and bioengineering, do you? Because the results I'm getting point to very sophisticated handiwork. I don't doubt you're a Grade A genius but this required expertise."

"I don't. My medical officer does," Anna said. "He guides me through the research and experimentation."

Something passed quickly through her features but was gone before McCoy could identify the emotion. Her voice was quiet when she spoke next.

"Biology and biotechnology were my first tracks of study before I went into command. I wanted to be a doctor."

McCoy stared at her for a long time, feeling a whirl of emotions go through him.

"It's not too late," McCoy said finally. His voice sounded odd to his ears - almost gentle. He glanced at the hypospray and saw it was almost full. The liquid inside it was clear; it was a good sign. "You're still young. You can request a transfer, can't you?"

"I made my choice."

McCoy brooded over her answer for a moment.

Finally, he said, "I'm going to withdraw the hypospray now so you'll feel the tube slowly slide up. You'll feel a pinch once it's completely retracted and I'll take away the spray. I'll wipe on more sterilizing gel after that. I'll give you five minutes to recover and then I'll take a sample from your lower lumbar."

Anna said nothing.

McCoy began to go through the motions he had just outlined for her, frowning deeply as he did. He felt unsettled and sick. If he had been in Jim's place, if any of the people he considered his friends had ended up in the Federation Intelligence, he would have fought tooth and nail to get them out.

_ She could’ve been a doctor. _

_ She could have been something else. _

McCoy removed the tube of spinal fluid from the hypospray and began to walk towards his workstation when she called out to him.

He turned around.

"I know the captain wants to keep me stationary," she said. She paused and then lowered her eyes. "But I'd like to see Trig, if possible. He doesn't know I'm here."

Her face was carefully blank but her emotions seemed to shine through anyway. It was clear she expected him to say no and had already resigned herself to his response.

_ But you still asked, didn't you? _

He held up the sample of her spinal fluid.

"Will I find anything in this?" McCoy asked.

She looked up and stared at him, assessing. She shook her head.

He huffed, irritated once more.

"Then why'd you go through all that if you think I won't find anything?"

"I respect you," she said, solemn but sincere. "I won't stand in the way of giving you a chance to find out for yourself. I’m used to these procedures."

McCoy grunted and stared at the tube. He was going to try his damnedest to find some sort of clue and prove her wrong. Hell, if he could draw her out a bit more, he might be able to have a decent medical conversation with someone aside from Chapel and M'Benga. Get an outsider's take on things even. It was a challenge on both fronts but he wasn't one to back down from anything.

"I'll comm Trig as soon as I set this down," McCoy said. "He can come to see you after I take the second sample."

Anna smiled at him and McCoy turned away, embarrassed and ashamed that he hadn't thought of contacting her partner. Of course, Trig would be worried about his commanding officer. As much as he was glad to have her interacting again, McCoy couldn't help the niggling thought that crossed his mind.

_ Hope Jim doesn't hit the roof when he finds out. _

###


	13. Substance X.

McCoy was frowning at the latest readout of results from Anna's tests and barely reacted when Jim stepped through the bio-containment field into the lab area. His frown grew deeper when the electrical field buzzed with Jim's entrance but he didn't look up.

"Hey, Bones," Jim said, throwing himself down into a chair next to McCoy. It was just past Alpha shift and Jim hadn't bothered going back to his quarters or his ready room; instead he headed straight for the medbay. He knew he had to meet with Spock later and view the psych session that he wanted Jim to see. Part of him dreaded that meeting. After all, what good could come out of it?

"Did she talk?"

"No."

Jim sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't help but feel disappointed even though he knew that Anna was not going to give up her secrets lightly.

"She didn't give you any information?"

"No."

"Damn," Jim muttered. "I was hoping she'd say something."

Jim saw McCoy's jaw twitch but he was still startled when the other man slammed his hand down on the counter. Some of the tubes rattled in their cases and Jim eyed the hypospray that rolled close to him.

"Damn it, Jim!" McCoy said. He finally turned to Jim and glared, pointing a finger in his face. "Did you really think that was going to work? I know you're the captain but I don't appreciate having a patient held against her goddamn will and being ordered to poke and prod at her while she's in the room."

Jim stared at McCoy for a moment before leaning back so that his chair was propped up against the wall. He could see shadows underneath his friend's eyes and the deep lines on his forehead and Jim felt a pang of regret.

"I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanted to keep her safe," Jim said quietly. "I knew you would do that. I'm not sorry about my decision but I am sorry for putting you in that position. I should have gone about it another way."

Something in McCoy's face softened, despite his scowl.

"Yeah that's an understatement, kid," McCoy said, turning back to his test results. "You know how I hate tears."

Jim put both feet on the floor, setting the chair straight again. "She cried?" Jim asked, surprised. "Are you kidding? Anna _ cried_?"

McCoy grunted, hitting keys on the panel in front of him.

"Jim, she was in shock," he said. "She had just seized, her serotonin levels were rock bottom, and the captain of the ship she's on pretty much ordered her to confinement. So yeah, she acted like a human and I’m not about to shame her for that and neither are you."

"Of course not, but I did the right thing," Jim said.

McCoy rubbed his eyes and looked at Jim again.

"Doing something wrong for the right reason doesn’t count. I would appreciate it if I wasn't backed into a corner and my patients were treated with more respect."

Jim raised his hand and nodded. "Scout's honor, Doc," Jim said.

To his relief, McCoy chuckled and shook his head.

"You've been using that phrase since our History of Culture class," McCoy said, turning full towards Jim with his hip against the counter. "The scouts are dead, Jim. Anyway, come over here and take a look at this. I think I found something."

Jim stood and stared up at the two images on the screen. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking but it looked like two screenshots of cells, side by side.

"The scan on the left is a blood sample from Anna immediately after we beamed her on board," McCoy said gesturing towards one side of the screen. "The scan on the right is a sample of Anna's blood from this morning. See the difference?"

Jim stared up at the images for a second and nodded.

"The earlier sample looks contaminated," Jim said. "There are little black... Uh, dots next to the cells. Is that dust?"

McCoy nodded. "It's not contaminated," he said. "It's a foreign substance, yes, but that sample isn't contaminated. Her more recent blood work shows the same substance in markedly decreased amounts. Anyway, remember those abnormalities."

McCoy's fingers flew swiftly over the panel and two additional images showed up underneath the blood samples. Like the first two images, these were sectioned off so that there were now distinct images on the screen, separated by lines into four quadrants.

"Both the images on the bottom are samples of Anna's spinal fluid," McCoy said. "They look normal right? But look what happens when I put them through the spectrophotometer."

McCoy hit a button and the spinal fluid samples turned a myriad of colors. Jim stared at the samples; they were almost pretty, with swirls of red and blue and green. But he also knew that he was looking at something unnatural.

"What is that?" he asked.

McCoy shrugged. "I'm going to guess that what we're looking at are various neurosuppressants," he said. "They were probably injected directly into her spine because her other samples, blood, tissue and so on, had only trace amounts."

"How many are there?" Jim asked. There were so many colors, mixing together almost artistically. Some areas were black.

"Six," McCoy said, with a certain amount of confidence that made Jim curious. How could McCoy know for sure - the swirls seemed indistinct, overlapping each other in strange combinations. "Not sure yet what any of them do and unless she tells me, I don't think I could find out with my equipment."

"But we're the flagship," Jim said with a frown. "We have the best equipment available."

"Starfleet equipment, sure," McCoy said, not looking at him. He seemed fixated on the images. "But this? This requires specialized technology and I'm going to take a wild guess that the FI has patents to whatever I'd need to really study these samples. These are highly sophisticated chemicals designed to suppress or increase neural activity. They're fucking color coded, Jim! Hell, what we're looking at pushed my equipment to their limits. I had to play around with the spectrophometer until I could get even that image."

"What made you think to use it?" Jim asked. He knew it wasn't a part of the regular medical test routine. McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"Anna's not exactly chatty," McCoy said. "But when she does speak, it's worth listening to."

"She told you to use it?" Jim asked, surprised. 

McCoy rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't go that far," he said. "She just asked questions about the kind of tech I have. And then she asked how many filters I had for my spectrophometer. It wasn't hard to see what she was getting at."

Jim smiled, glad that Anna was responding to McCoy at some level but he was also a bit peeved. She had resisted his offerings of friendship. What made McCoy special?

_ It might just be his title_, Jim thought. _ Her psych evals said she would be prone to deferring to authority figures. _

_ Her parents were scientists- does she see McCoy as a surrogate? _

_ Could I leverage that somehow? _

Jim rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was aware that he was using the FI's own psychological reports against her and while it made him uneasy he had to use any advantage he had.

"Now here's the interesting part," McCoy said. He began to type again. "Look what happens when I put her original blood samples in contact with her spinal fluid."

The images on the left side merged and Jim saw that the black flecks moved into action, reacting to the chemicals in the spinal fluid. He studied the scene before him quietly, watching as the colored swirls began to form a sort of ordered mosaic.

"It almost looks like... It almost looks like the black dots are controlling the colors," Jim said. He winced. "I sound like an idiot."

McCoy smirked.

"Usually, but you're right in this case," he said. "They're controlling whatever's in her spinal fluid. I think what we're looking at is how Anna is able to control her physical responses. Heart rate, adrenaline levels, pain reactions and so on. That is what I've been calling Substance X in my reports."

"Are they sentient?" Jim asked after a moment. "It looks like they're rounding up the suppressants. Organizing them."

"I don't know yet," McCoy said. Jim glanced at him; he knew his friend's expressions well enough. McCoy was on to something but he wasn't going to say until he knew for sure. Jim had to be patient. McCoy wouldn't be pushed and he had done enough pushing anyway. "I've magnified them several times over. At a certain point, they become blurs. I think they've been designed to resist magnification. I just don't know."

"Well, let me know when you do figure it out," Jim said, patting his friend on the shoulder. McCoy shook his head, frowning again.

“I don't think I have the right equipment to do anything further," McCoy said. "This was a breakthrough in and of itself. I knew that there was some sort of controlling influence at work. From what I know of her, Anna's reckless with her own health."

"Yeah, and?"

"But she's not stupid. Far from it," McCoy said. "Jim, she admitted having a hand in the creation of these suppressants but I don't think she would have taken them if she didn't have a way to control them."

McCoy crossed his arms, looking pensive.

"She didn't take into account being injured," he said. "Her original injuries required transfusions and hemopurifying. That cleared out most of the controlling substance in her blood. Without it, the suppressants were in stasis - they continued doing what they were meant to do, mainly because they were in perfect balance. But when she came in contact with Gaila, they went out of control. I'm guessing Gaila's pheromones negated only one of the suppressants but that was enough to affect the balance."

"So what does this mean? She's normal now?"

"Far from baseline," McCoy said. "Definitely not helpless. She has an abnormal muscle-to-fat ratio and her skeletal system is stronger than the average human woman's. Hell, stronger even than the average human man. It doesn't mean she's invincible though and clearly, she's at a weakened state now. Also, she's underweight and all signs point to a recent, unexpected weight loss."

McCoy stopped and took a deep breath.

"I believe that the suppressants may have altered her disposition," he said slowly. He seemed unsure of himself which was a rarity and Jim said nothing even though McCoy's statement raised many, many questions. "I can't say I know her all that well but there's a difference between our current interactions and past. I'm not saying Anna, as a person, is fundamentally different but there's a definite decrease in aggressive behavior and she's been able to display a broader set of emotions, as I described earlier."

"'Been able to,'" Jim repeated. "What are you saying? That she was unable to do so before?"

"No," McCoy said. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. But there is a behavioral difference, Jim. I'm not sure yet if it's good or bad."

Jim crossed his arms and turned his back on the images. He stared at McCoy.

"So what's the prognosis, doc?" he asked.

"There are seven officers onboard that emit pheromones similar to Gaila," McCoy said. "Three are in Engineering, two in Security and the rest are in Science. If we limit her movements on this ship to avoid them, she should be fine. I'll keep a mobile monitor on her to make sure you or I or Spock are alerted if she goes down again but all in all? She's a mess, no doubt, but I can't _ do _ anything for her. I've stabilized her as best I could. Anything I do for her at this point would be in reaction to something."

Jim chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. He wanted to keep her in Medical for as long as possible. She was safe there and to be honest, he could keep a closer eye on her if she was kept under McCoy's care. But if McCoy didn't think she was in danger, there was no rational reason for him to confine her anymore.

"Where is she?" Jim asked.

McCoy flushed suddenly and he looked away.

"In my office," McCoy said. Jim uncrossed his arms, shocked.

"I took every sort of tissue sample from her I could take, Jim," McCoy said, before Jim could open his mouth. "And she gave them to me willingly. She's not a prisoner. She even helped, albeit in a half-assed way, to get the results I have now."

He pointed to a small screen on the table.

"You and I both know I have a shitload of security cameras trained on my office and everywhere else in this section. As far as I could tell, she's done nothing but doze off, eat her breakfast and read my old med-PADDs. She hasn't touched my personal belongings, and she hasn't put a finger on anything that could even be remotely dangerous. She's tired and I was tired and-"

"Okay, okay!" Jim said, holding up his hand. "I wasn't mad, just surprised. She's been here half a day and already you trust her in your office alone?"

"Everything in my office is locked down. It's safe. She wasn't going to try and escape or hack into my files, if that's what you're getting at. Besides, if you're going to get pissed at me..."

McCoy trailed off and Jim eyed him warily. It was rare for him to get nervous, so he must have done something he was sure Jim, the captain and not his friend, would be angry at.

"Bones, what did you do?" he asked. McCoy sighed and shook his head.

"I let her see her partner."

Jim felt his stomach drop. Anna as an individual was a problem enough. With Trig, the two highest ranking officers of Tabernacle presented a whole different set of issues. Jim had no doubt that whatever actions he thought they were capable of would still be an underestimation of their abilities.

_ Too late now though. I'll just have to review the security tapes and try to see if any information was passed along. _

"Were you in the room, at least?" Jim asked. McCoy nodded.

"Trig was upset but he didn't seem angry," McCoy said. "I explained to him the situation but left out your orders, of course. He seemed more relieved that she was fine. They talked for a bit and I didn't hear anything that was suspicious. I think he just wanted to make sure she was okay. She didn't tell him that you had ordered her there indefinitely."

McCoy tapped his fingers on the table and took a deep breath. "They seem... Close."

Jim stared at McCoy.

"How close?" he asked, not meaning for his words to sound so sharp.

"Close," McCoy said. "Anyway, he was here for less than ten minutes. The man seemed fatigued so I ordered him to get something to eat and report back here for a check up later today. I swear those two are falling apart before my goddamn eyes. We need to limit his movements on the ship as well. I don't think he has the same shit in his system but just to be safe..."

McCoy trailed off again and looked at Jim closely. "Anna's in my office, Jim. You should go see her."

Jim nodded and stood up.

"Thanks," he said. "You think I should release her, don't you?"

"That's your call," McCoy said. He turned towards the panel again and shrugged. "But there's no point in keeping her here. Like I said, I'll slap a monitor bracelet on her and limit her movements on the ship but that's about all we can do."

"Understood, Bones," Jim said. He turned to leave and then hesitated. "I'm glad she seems to trust you. You know, she wanted to be a doctor when we were kids."

"I know," McCoy said, almost distractedly as he turned back to the panel. "Her parents were scientists, right?"

"What?" Jim said, now feeling truly annoyed. As Spock would say, it was an illogical emotion but Jim couldn't help being slightly miffed. "How did you know?"

"She mentioned it," McCoy said, typing again. He seemed not to notice Jim's mood, too absorbed in his work.

"She told you this?"

"Uh, yeah," McCoy said, finally looking back at him. "I haven't suddenly developed the power to read minds."

Jim and McCoy stared at each other for a moment and Jim could see the dawning comprehension in the other man's eyes. He felt his cheeks burn and he looked away, headed for the door.

"I'll swing by your office and release her," Jim said. "I'm sure Anna will be happy about that."

"Oh for Christ's... _ Jim _!" McCoy exclaimed. Jim sighed and turned around, embarrassed that his friend could see right through him. McCoy was anything but obtuse but he hadn't meant to be so transparent.

"Bones, I’m not-"

"Good, I hope not," McCoy said firmly. He glared at Jim and then shook his head. "Anyway, go ahead and release her. I need you to stop by here so I can set the monitor on her and then you should get her something to eat. She's been sleeping for the past couple of hours and missed lunch. Make sure she gets something hearty. Complex carbs. Fat. Lots of protein. High caloric value is preferred."

Jim gave him a jaunty salute and McCoy waved him off, rolling his eyes.

###

Anna was still asleep on McCoy's mobile bed when Jim walked into his office. The doors slid quietly shut behind him and he paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. The sight of the doctor's office was as familiar as his own ready room: the display of antique medical equipment (which admittedly made Jim shiver inside each time he saw their sharp, metallic edges), datapads stacked haphazardly on the desk, the boxes of preset hyposprays and tricorders on the far left wall... They were all the signs of his friend's domain. Bones was king here and it showed.

Leonard McCoy was a bit of a workaholic and the bed was more often in use than not, even during calm times. Jim was well acquainted with the bottle of bourbon he kept underneath his desk for after shifts and he knew to go to McCoy's office first, before checking his quarters, during emergencies.

_Wonder if Bones' has ever_ _had_ _someone in this bed_, Jim thought with a smirk, as he walked towards the sleeping figure. _There was that one dignitary last year..._

Anna was on her back, with one hand curled around one of McCoy’s medical literature datapads and the other arm flung out to the side. A sheet lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. Jim made a mental note to find other attire for her. She'd been wearing the same black clothing for over a day now and he knew she couldn't be comfortable.

It might have been the dim lighting, or a more physical cause, but her face seemed softer in sleep. Younger.

_ Not defenseless but still.. _.

His stood still and stared transfixed at the steady, slow movement of her chest as she breathed in and out - proof that she was alive and not in danger. Her eyes fluttered and she frowned, moving her head slightly as if acting out a dream. Her hands clenched into fists and then relaxed but her frown grew deeper. 

Without being really conscious of it, Jim leaned down, meaning to soothe her somehow.

She sat up with a jolt, grabbing his wrist in a painful grasp, her large gray eyes wide and fully awake.

"What are you doing?" Anna demanded, suspicion clouding her features and Jim jerked his hand back in surprise. 

She let it go easily but stared at him with her jaw clenched.

"Lights, sixty percent," Jim barked out, rubbing at his wrist where she had bent it back. He was startled at the strength of her grip but mostly, he was pissed off at not moving back fast enough. "You really need to stop doing that."

Jim knew when someone was in a deep sleep. How had she woken up so quickly?

"And I wasn't going to do anything to you. Bones told me you were here and I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Checking up to see if I was behaving, you mean," she snapped. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and looked back at him balefully. Jim was tempted to snap back but as he studied her face in the light, he noticed her puffy eyes and her deeply tired expression. Her hair was a tangled mess and her black sweater was rumpled. "I gave up tissue and blood samples willingly. I answered all of Doctor McCoy's questions within reason. What else do you want from me?"

Her tone was petulant and sullen and it quickly deflated Jim's anger. He remembered that tone well; Anna had always been more even-tempered than himself growing up but when she was feeling poorly, or when she felt particularly vulnerable, she had a tendency to act, well, _ bratty. _ It was a defense mechanism, one he recognized now. She probably wasn't even conscious of it: the more she acted out, the more likely it was that she would be left alone to lick her wounds.

It comforted him to think that she still acted the same way. He sat down next to her, pretending not to notice the way she scooted back away and rubbed his wrist.

"Seriously, you have an iron grip," he said, glancing at her. "You looked like you were having a bad dream."

"No," Anna said, a bit too quickly. "I'm a light sleeper."

Jim stared at her for a moment before shaking his head and looking away. 

"I had a chat with Bones and he thinks I should release you to rest in your quarters," he said. She seemed surprised but said nothing. "But because there are other people onboard that emit pheromones similar to Orions', I'll have to restrict you to certain areas on the ship."

Anna looked pensive for a moment before nodding.

"Makes sense," she said. "I take it Trig will be under the same restrictions?"

"Yes," Jim said. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

"I guess," she mumbled. Her gaze paused briefly over the discarded sheet and Jim caught an expression of longing on her face before she straightened and composed herself. "So I'm free to go?"

"You're free to come with me to grab a very late lunch," Jim said. "Or early dinner, depending on how you look at it. You're free to freshen up before that. And you're also free to go straight back to bed afterwards. You didn't get a clean bill of health, Anna. That means no training in the holodeck and no arguing with me or Bones, is that clear?"

"Clearly we have differing opinions on the meaning of free," Anna said, but there was no real anger behind her words. She seemed too tired to put up a fight and Jim was relieved not to have to argue with her. But he was worried. As he was learning, an argumentative Anna was a healthy Anna. The woman in front of him seemed to be only a pale shadow of the FI officer he had seen her to be.

_ Behavioral differences, sure. But she looks exhausted too. _

She shrugged and stood up and Jim followed.

"Free is in the eye of the beholder on this ship," Jim said with a grin that he didn't really feel. "And I just so happen to be that beholder."

"That doesn't even make sense," she muttered, looking down at her sweater. She tried briefly to smooth out the wrinkles that had developed there and gave up after seeing the gesture was futile. "Whatever. As long as you don't confine me to one place."

Jim's grin disappeared and he placed a light hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him.

"If it had been one of your officers, you would have done the same thing," Jim said seriously. Anna opened her mouth to respond but he shook his head. "Don't deny it. You would have thrown them in the medbay, or whatever FI equivalent there is, and kept them there until you were sure they were fine."

Anna sighed. "I'm not your officer," she said."And you don't have the same equipment."

"That's beside the point and you know it," Jim squeezed her shoulder slightly and took a step back. It was a subtle shift; he wanted to get her attention initially but now he wanted to convey the very real concern he had for her. He wanted Anna to understand that he had acted not out of duty but out of true care. 

"I don't know how much you remember what happened last night but-"

"I remember," she said, again a little too quickly for Jim to dismiss. She looked at a point past him. "I guess that must have been very frightening for you."

Jim had to shake his head. She certainly had nerve.

"Yeah, it was," he said earnestly. "I wonder how you'd feel if you saw me going through the same thing. Actually, I want to know - Anna, how would you have felt if you had seen me just crash like that in Engineering? What would you have done?"

For a moment, it seemed as if she were lost in her own thoughts, her gray eyes distant and unseeing of anything in the room. Instead of the blank, emotionless expression he had become accustomed to, she looked lost. 

When finally, _ finally_, she looked back at Jim, he saw only confusion.

"I don't have a ship. It's not a fair question."

"Your powers of evasion and denial are astonishing, colonel!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jim," she grumbled. She ran her fingers through her hair and winced when she got caught in a tangle. "I'm going back to my room and taking a shower. Let me guess - you want to meet in Ten-Forward afterwards?"

"Wrong," Jim said. He smiled. "First, we're stopping by to see Bones. He wants to put a mobile monitor on you. After that, you can go to your quarters but we're eating in my quarters. You're lucky none of the pheromone-emitters were in the Lounge when you were in there. Your restriction on the Enterprise is effective immediately. I'll give you and Trig a list of areas that are now considered off limits for your own safety."

"A monitor?" she said, her cheeks turning a slight pink. "I'm not dying, not even close! I'm not even sick. "

"Did I say you were dying?" Jim said. "Is that the only reason you would put a monitor on someone? Yes, you're getting a monitor and so is your partner. At least until Bones is sure you're no longer in danger. And since he's still in the dark about your condition..."

He stared at Anna, trailing off and she returned his gaze, saying nothing.

Jim nodded after a beat.

"Right. Like I said, since he's still in the dark about your condition, it stays on," Jim finished.

"Fine," Anna walked across the room and began to put on her boots. "But for the record, it's unnecessary and extreme and invasive."

Her actions stilled and she looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Your quarters?" she asked.

Jim grinned and put his hands on his hips. "I should be insulted. You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I've been in your room before, James Kirk," she said. She jerked one boot on, pulling up the sides with both hands. Jim noted the sharp lines and angles of her body where there should have been softness. Another worrisome fact: she didn't seem to notice his scrutiny. "And believe me, I am scared to venture back in, I don't care how much you've grown up."

He laughed. "Hey, just because I may have been a bit messy as a kid-"

"How many times did you spend the night in my room?" she asked, putting the other boot on. "Because your bed was missing under the pile of clothes, toys, holovids, study PADDs..."

Jim flushed and looked away. 

_ I can’t believe she bought that excuse for all those years. _

"Actually, the truth was I preferred your adorable little bed over my own," he said, clearing his throat. "Not everyone could pull off princess lace and pink sheets past the age of six but you managed to keep them until you were sixteen. I mean, that's something special, Anna. And that teddy bear, remember him? What was his name? Thaddeus? Trent? Ted?"

"And you somehow ended up a captain?" she said, ducking her head. But Jim saw the smile she tried to hide as she went back to the bed. She began to fold up the sheet she had used, keeping her head lowered the entire time. He watched as she lay the sheet down on the surface next to the datapad and hit the retraction key.

As the bed slid back into the wall, she walked to the door and Jim followed her out.

"His name was Tibby," she said, looking forward as they walked towards the lab area where McCoy stood. "You know what it was short for."

Jim looked at her profile and nodded.

"I know. I remember."

###


	14. Family. A New Friendship.

**** Trig was furious.

He paced back and forth in his room, trying and failing to calm down. He knew he should sit and rest, knew that his body was still weak and recovering but he didn't care.

He needed to move.

Trig was inherently cheerful. He’d been raised to be outgoing and independent, slow to anger and quick to laugh. His brothers and sisters were a loud, rambunctious group and as the youngest member of the family he had been loved, if not coddled.

Though it was clear from the onset of his childhood that he was precocious, he didn't think he was all that special. His older siblings were all fairly smart; it was a Jansen tradition to finish school early and graduate at the top of the class, but he hadn't realized that his intuitive sense for how things worked, his love for the physics of trajectories and projectiles would someday lead him to the Federation Intelligence.

Or vice versa, rather.

He had always assumed that he would end up as a physicist. Weaponry - historical and modern, human and alien, had merely been a side hobby. While his studies focused on the principles of pro-quantum mechanics, he was drawn to bigger, more tangible evidence of how things worked. He would marvel at ancient instruments made of iron and steel, wood and rope, trapped within the safe confines of air-locked museum chambers. His fingers had longed to hold them and see if they worked as he felt they would. He'd often re-create the things he'd seen, eventually giving the working replicas away as gifts.

Recruited by the FI and originally offered the Science track, he’d been convinced to move on to Command and Military Science. At the least, he enjoyed the more physical aspects of the C/MS track and before long, he had forgotten that his former life had been spent studying the smallest particles in the known universe and arguing theory with other scientists. He still dabbled in physics but that had become more of a side hobby than the focus of his life as it once was.

Trig loved what he did. Though he suffered from brief moments of moral confusion and the occasional near-death injury, Ven always had solutions for those pangs of uncertainty. He missed his biological family, but Tabernacle were his people now. Their purpose was good. He no longer even thought of himself as Greger; he was Trig now. 

_ Blessed are the peacekeepers. _

He knew Starfleet thought FI officers were nothing more than amoral killers, "geniuses with guns" as he had overheard one Admiral say, and they regularly had conflicts with the UFP Ethics Committee. For the most part, it amused Trig. Outsiders couldn’t see the solidarity, the connection FI officers had between one another. It wasn't something that could be forced or even replicated, much less explained. 

It was why Trig had known something was wrong the moment he woke up that morning. The feeling of dread intensified as the hours passed but Anna hadn't turned up in his quarters or come back to retrieve her reconfigured datapad. She had given him plans to check on and he tried to focus on those, fighting the urge to search the ship's halls for his CO.

He could have easily asked the computer where she was, but he knew from experience that if Anna did not want to be found, she simply disappeared. She wasn't obligated to inform Trig of her whereabouts. Besides, he didn't want his request to be recorded. What tempered his fear was the feeling that Captain Kirk would not let Anna come to harm. There was something in the other man's eyes he recognized: Kirk cared for Anna, that much was clear. If something had happened, Trig would hear about it soon enough.

So when Doctor McCoy called on him, Trig was prepared.

The door to his quarters suddenly chirped and Trig looked up.

_ I should have been able to detect an approach. _

Unease began to mingle in with the anger.

_ Why didn’t I sense anything? _

Trig said nothing as Anna walked inside. She had taken a shower and looked a lifetime better than when Trig had seen her in the medical bay. He studied her face and her body, noting the rapid changes that had taken place in the past day, and frowned when he saw the Starfleet communicator on her chest again. His gaze moved down and lingered on the small silver band around her wrist.

"It's a biomonitor," she said, and he looked up at her face. "You're getting one too. We're also being limited to certain areas on the ship even though I know you won't be affected."

"You took NS5631," he said in a low voice. As angry as he was, Anna was still his CO. He couldn't outright be angry with her but he sure as hell would show his displeasure at her actions. "You didn't tell me."

"Only Ven knew," she said. Her back straightened and her eyes narrowed, forcing Trig to back down a little. "It was a last minute decision. We needed a way to change my physiology enough that the Tressacks couldn't track me. And besides, they don't emit pheromones so-"

"You didn't think taking an experimental neural chemical was relevant to mention before a mission?" Trig felt his heart begin to race and he slowed it down. A rush of adrenaline wouldn't help him now.

"Are you going to file a complaint, major?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He could hear the underlying threat in her voice. _ I dare you. _ "Because I'd be happy to sign off on it. I'll even draft it for you."

Trig clenched his jaw but shook his head.

"I know you don't have to tell me anything that isn't directly tied to our objectives. But as your friend, as your partner, I think you do have to mention the fact that you're playing guinea pig with yourself again. You could have-"

"Died? No," Anna said. She sighed and to his surprise, she seemed contrite. "5631 only affects stress-related emotions. I'll just have a harder time now controlling certain reactions but I should get back to the lower end of my baseline in a few days."

"Right, like that's the only side effect. Anna, I know what a chem-wipe feels like," he said. "Any one of the other suppressants could cause major cerebral damage at this point. Your lungs could fill up with-"

"Greger."

She said his name softly, gently, and it made him stop.

"I knew something had happened," he said. He sat down on the couch and felt the fight drain out of him. He tapped his head. "I felt you. It was like there was a vice up here, tightening. I knew when you dropped.”

He rubbed his eyes and looked up. "I was scared."

Something in Anna's face shifted at his admission and she regarded him curiously.

Trig never feared dying or fighting. He wasn't scared of failure; what he feared most was being helpless. Knowing Anna had gotten hurt, that she was in danger now even as she stood in front of him, and he couldn't do anything about it shook him to his core.

"I see."

Anna sat down next to him, seeming to struggle with something.

He was briefly distracted from his worry and fear and anger by the expression on her face. It wasn't as if the FI were completely devoid of emotions - they knew each other well enough to detect amusement, anger, concern, grief in even the slightest gestures. He simply wasn't used to seeing Anna's face so open and bright and stamped with expression.

"Yeah," Trig muttered.

"Me too. I was too." Her gaze was steady. “It was… Painful. I was scared.”

Trig looked at her in surprise. Anna reached out for him and he met her halfway, grasping her hand in his and squeezing it tightly.

"Try not to die on me," he said, trying to sound light. "At least not anytime soon. I don't think my heart could take it, especially now."

"Promise," she said. Anna squeezed his hand back before letting it go. "My heart couldn't take it if I died either."

"Not funny.”

"I thought it was," she said with a shrug. She looked at the PADD on the couch next to her but didn't pick it up. "Did you send those transmissions to Bishop and Ven?"

Trig nodded.

She asked him to relay messages to the team when Trig had gone to see her. Doctor McCoy stayed in the room during their brief interaction but that didn’t matter. McCoy was either very naive or had underestimated the both of them; Trig thought it was a mixture of both. Trig genuinely liked the gruff doctor but still.

McCoy was not one of them.

Anna looked relieved. "Did you get a response?"

"Yeah, I got an affirmative from Ven. Bishop sent the program you wanted via transmission," Trig said. "All you have to do is activate it. Once it's in the ship's systems, only we can initiate the swarm."

"Good."

"Bishop also said that when you're back planetside, you should expect to be yelled at for using 5631 without stabilizing and shielding the compounds or tuning them for better compatibility."

"Of course you told him what happened," Anna sighed. She didn't look angry though, something Trig was grateful for. "Those were his exact words?"

"Well, he said you were ridiculously irresponsible, stupidly reckless and damn-fool-fucking-crazy."

"Great," she said. "Sounds like him. For the record, General Bishop knew about 5631 and he thought it was a good idea for me to use it."

Trig snorted. "I'm sure he did. I'm also sure he thought you'd wait until it was actually perfected before you used it."

"Well, yes, but sadly he didn't make that part explicit," Anna said, sitting up. "Keep the PADD here. I'll read the transmission later - I have to have dinner with Kirk soon."

Trig raised an eyebrow and Anna gave him a sharp look.

"Whatever it is you were going to say, don't. That's an order."

Trig held up his hands innocently and made his eyes wide. Anna's cheeks flushed and it took all of his willpower not to burst out laughing. "Who am I to say anything about you and captain, what was it you called him that time? Jimmy."

"Trig."

"I'm kidding."

Anna crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. He laughed again. He didn't think she was aware of how she looked.

"Anyway, Bishop mentioned one more thing. Apparently Admiral Pike's been sniffing around Tabernacle. I was monitoring their input/output signals and it looks like Kirk and his first officer had a long meeting with Pike this morning."

Anna tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "Interesting," she muttered. "Pike was responsible for recruiting Jim and the man was all over his personnel file."

"Pike and his wife are childless," Trig said. Anna looked at him in surprise and then grinned. For a second, Trig was distracted by the expression. It was such a rare thing to see Anna so open.

He cleared his throat and went on.

"They tried for a few years to have a child but Pike was a celebrated captain. He was off planet for a long time. They eventually gave up, right about the time James Kirk enlisted in Starfleet. I don't think that it's a coincidence."

"Excellent work, Trig." 

"In fact, Pike wrote the definitive analysis of George Kirk's actions on the USS Kelvin and he knew about James Kirk. Admiral Pike strikes me as an especially compassionate man, the kind to get attached to people."

"So Pike probably thinks he knows about Tabernacle and Heretic," Anna said, looking troubled. "That complicates things. Who knows what he was told and by whom? Send Bishop a transmission. I want to set up a video comm tomorrow and I want you there. Tell him he has to open the link first - it has to sound like he requested it, not me."

"Yeah?" Trig said. He didn't like the idea of Pike having any kind of information about Heretic; after all, Starfleet caused the mess they were in to begin with. "Okay. Anything else you want me to mention?"

"No, he'll know what we need."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

She looked away then and not for the first time did Trig wonder what she was thinking. Though they were close, he knew there were some things that she simply would not share with anyone. He knew she was an only child but she rarely spoke about her family and chose to work at headquarters during their very brief holiday breaks and between missions. Anything about her life leading up to the FI was also off limits. Trig gotten the feeling early on that she would shut him down if he asked her about her past and he felt it best to let that side of her go.

He asked Paloma once many years ago what she read from Anna and Paloma had glared at him with all the force her inky black eyes could manage.

"_None of your business, you nosy asshole.” _

Paloma was not someone he wanted to cross. Empath or not, she was the type to claw someone's eyes out if they even so much looked at her funny and she was even worse when it came to the people she liked. Anna was firmly in the "like" category and everyone knew to tread lightly around Paloma when it came to Anna.

The only other time he had ever seen Anna truly happy was when she was with Daniel and Trig didn't know how Anna managed to maintain her composure after that blow.

_ When they told her I had lost him. _

_ When she realized what he had done. _

He pushed the memories away. He could think over it all when she left. He didn't want her to suspect where his thoughts had gone.

"I'll be back later," Anna said, moving towards the door. "I expect you to keep your appointment with Doctor McCoy though. I'd rather have you go there than have him stomp down here and start sniffing around. And besides, you look ill. If he wants you to stay for observation, you won't put up a fight, got it?"

"Okay," Trig said. He picked up the PADD and typed in his security code.

"You and I both know the pheromones won't hurt you," Anna said. "If you haven't eaten, I suggest you go to Ten-Forward before McCoy or the captain send over a list of the no-go zones. I'm hoping a phero-emitter happens to wander past and they realize you're not affected. I'd rather you not be limited like me."

"Sure thing," Trig said. "I ate but I'll run around Engineering and see if I can't track down that Orion. There will be witnesses, I'm sure. You do realize they'll haul us both back in for testing?"

"Her name is Gaila and yes, but they'll focus on me," Anna said, without a trace of arrogance. Trig knew she was right and it seemed that both Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk naturally gravitated towards Anna, for differing reasons. If their attention was on her, the other senior officers would follow suit and Trig could easily pass under their notice until she needed him front and center.

“Wait. Anna,” he said quietly as she turned to leave.

She paused at the open door, looking back at him expectantly. 

He hesitated.

“Yeah?”

Trig let out a breath and smiled. 

“Be careful. Please.”

###

Jim grabbed the large pitcher of water from the replicator and placed it on the set table in the middle of the room. He smoothed out the napkins and straightened the silverware, fiddling with the steak knives until they were just so. When everything looked acceptable, he touched the containment units that held their dinner to ensure that it was warm.

_ I am not nervous_. _ It's just dinner. _

_ Not nervous, just dinner. _

Jim patted down his dress shirt and adjusted his sleeves. It had been a long time since he put on civvies and he was a little self-conscious. He wanted Anna to see him not as a Starfleet captain but as her old friend and the command gold was too obvious a sign of his status. Pike told him to use Anna, to get more information from her while she was under his control, but Jim's loyalties were a mess. It was Starfleet versus Anna and Jim was caught in the middle. He knew where Anna's allegiance lay but he hoped that she could be swayed in her current state.

And he had a long term goal.

_ I have to get her away from them. They can't be allowed to take her away again. _

If he could somehow place her in Bones' care, or under the care of a Starfleet doctor, he was sure he could undo the damage the FI had done. It was clear that whatever was in her system had changed her. Bones said there was a behavioral difference and Jim was willing to bet that the longer she was off those chemicals, the better off she'd be. 

With the help of a psychotherapist and medical doctor, she'd be better.

_ Starfleet could use her. _

Jim stared out his window, suddenly hit with what that really meant. The Federation Intelligence had used her and now he was hoping he could persuade her to join Starfleet for what? To be used in the same way?

_ We're not like them. _

_ She could go into Medical Science. I could get her a post here. _

But would Anna want to give up the power she had now? Her rank? Her team? If their positions were reversed, would he give it all up for her?

_ No. _

He wasn't the helpless, angry child he had been. He didn't need anyone to depend on him to make him feel as if he had worth. Jim had worked hard to get where he was now and he doubted that he would give it all up because of one person so how could he ask the same of her?

Except the memory of her face as she threatened the doctor's family during her psych sessions-

_ "I know who you are."_

It made Jim anxious and all the more eager to take her back from them. That wasn't Anna. That was someone they had hurt and poked at and prodded until she lashed out. Starfleet could leverage her mind for more worthy uses. The Federation Intelligence had twisted her talent and Starfleet could fix that.

"Jim?"

Jim whirled around, startled. He hadn't heard the door open and now Anna stood at the threshold, staring at him with a puzzled look. She took a step forward, her movements slow and purposeful and he realized that she was giving him time to recover.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Jim licked his lips and forced himself to smile.

"Yeah, I was just..." He looked down at the table before him. "I got sidetracked by the view but you're just in time. Food’s ready."

Anna took another step forward and then looked around his room. Her gaze swept over every corner of his living area and he didn't doubt that she was silently recording every detail. The now familiar watchful look was there on her face but it didn't mar her features like before. 

She simply looked curious. 

Jim took the time to look over her; she looked better than she had the night before, even a few hours before. Something inside of him warmed at the sight of the small silver communicator on her chest. 

In her new civvies she seemed fragile, less like a FI officer and more like someone who was recovering from a long illness. Her hair - clean, brushed and pulled back, brought attention to the angles of her face and sharp jawline. Yet there was color on her cheeks and her eyes were clear and bright.

"So I hope you're hungry," Jim said brightly, trying to shake himself out of the rather maudlin mood. 

"What's for dinner?" Anna said, finally looking at the table and moving to sit down. "I'm guessing Doctor McCoy had to approve the menu?"

"No, but he did order me to tell you to eat every bite I put on your plate," Jim said. She stared at him and he shrugged. "Doctor's orders. I mean, it's either this or a direct feeding tube and nutrition packs."

Anna held up her hands in mock surrender and her biomonitor caught the light for a second. As he pulled out a chair for her, he noticed a very slight tremor in her hands. Swallowing down his concern, Jim began to serve her, making sure her plate was full first. 

"Hope you’re ready to eat. I really am under strict orders to make sure you clean your plate. Hey, remember when you were still tiny and your mom made you eat every green she could get her hands on?”

Anna was silent for a beat as if she were deciding how to react before she glared at him in mock-outrage as he sat down.

"I was a late bloomer," she said, placing her napkin on her lap before picking up her fork. "You suddenly sprouted up and I didn't."

"Your dad measured your height every week," Jim laughed. He watched as she picked at her salad and he began to do the same. "He drove your mom crazy. He had us all convinced you were going to be a five footer for the rest of your life."

Anna rolled her eyes and took a bite. "Would it have been so awful?" 

"No, you were an adorable, tiny little thing," Jim said, watching her take another bite. He pushed the baked potato closer to her fork and began to slather it with butter for her. "Here, try this. Anyway, I could have put you in my pocket when you were fourteen. You were so itty bitty."

Anna looked annoyed for a moment before digging into her meal. They ate in silence and Jim kept a surreptitious eye on her intake. She moved languidly. It was clear she had no appetite but was eating to humor him - which was fine. She could humor him all she wanted as long as she finished what he thought was a proper meal.

"So, did Bones tell you about the first time we met?" Jim asked lightly. She looked at him with a cautious gaze and then slowly shook her head. To his relief, she picked up her fork again and took another bite.

"You're not going to believe this because he puts up a good front," he went on. "It was on the shuttle to San Francisco, the morning after I enlisted in Starfleet - and that, Anna, is another story in and of itself. Anyway, I just got..."

As he spoke, Anna seemed to grow more relaxed. She even laughed a few times as Jim spun exaggerated tale after tale of his exploits at the Academy, providing commentary that was usually at his expense. Her edges were sharper than he remembered and she was far more cynical but Jim liked her all the more for it.

He didn't want to give into hope just then, not yet, but she seemed to warm to him. Each smile grew larger by a fraction and she seemed more engaged in general. Jim wondered what it would have been like if she had never joined the Federation Intelligence. If they would have somehow still ended up on his ship under different circumstances, like their friendship had never been interrupted.

Maybe it would have bloomed into something else.

He could almost believe that.

"...and then the guy started shrieking and Spock hadn't even touched him," Jim said, grinning. "It was the glare that set him off. I swear, if Bones could bottle that look he'd have other doctors lining up for it to subdue their patients."

Anna poked lazily at the scraps left on her plate. 

"Oh, I don't know," she said. "He's not so bad. What's that old saying? His bark is worse than his bite."

"Yeah?" Jim said, leaning his chin on his elbow. "Well, he's much nicer with you than he is with me. I've seen him give you hyposprays. He usually aims for my neck. He at least gives you the courtesy of using your arm."

"How many times has he used a hypospray on you during non-emergencies?" Anna said, pointing her fork at him. Jim ducked his head, smiling and Anna rolled her eyes. "I thought so. Doctor McCoy told me you were accident-prone. The veins in your neck ensure much faster delivery for certain medication. Seeing as how you never could sit still, I'm sure the good doctor knows he has to do as much as he can within a short amount of time."

"Doesn't make it hurt less though," Jim said, rubbing the side of his neck.

"So the big starship captain is afraid of an itty bitty hypospray?" 

"I'm secure enough to be able to admit my fears," he said, laughing. "You have to give me credit for that."

"I'll wait on doling out credit until it's deserved," Anna said. She made swirls of steak sauce on her plate. Jim reached over and pushed her discarded knife closer to her plate. She made a face but picked it up grudgingly and began to cut the rest of her steak.

Jim sat back, pleased.

"I'm hurt, Anna, really, I am. Until it's well deserved? I admit a deep, dark fear of being stabbed in the neck-"

"A hypospray to the external jugular isn't really considered getting stabbed in the neck, Jimmy.”

"Semantics," Jim insisted. He couldn't help the big grin that formed on his face. "Anyway, I saved Earth. That deserves _ some _credit, right?"

Anna looked up, surprised. "You really said that. You seriously pulled that one out and said it."

"It's true!" Jim laughed. He leaned forward and winked. "I mean, I may have had a _ little _ help but at the end of the day-"

"I always knew you'd be great," Anna said suddenly. Her smile seemed to soften as she looked at him. "I know people used to think of you as George Kirk's son but you were always just Jimmy to me. You were the boy who helped me get my favorite toy out of that tree. I always knew that someday everyone would see you the same way. Your father wasn't the only hero."

Suddenly uncertain of himself, Jim looked down and fiddled with the napkin in his lap, sharpening the crease there with his fingertips.

"I wish..." he started and then stopped, not sure how to say what he wanted. 

She seemed to steel herself then and he realized that she knew the implications of her words, what they would mean to him. And it was clear she expected him to react negatively. It was a confession of sorts for her but also an opening of a door. She was telling him that it was okay to push her a little bit more. Not much, just a bit.

Jim had to tread carefully.

"I wish you could have been there to see it all," he said finally. "Well, not necessarily in the middle of that chaos but there. Around."

_ With me. _

"I wouldn’t have fit in your life," Anna said. "Not back then. I'm not even sure I'd fit now. All of this, everything around you? It’s good. You have a good life now but I have no place in it. I have my own life. You understand, don't you?"

"No, I don’t," Jim said. "We have separate lives - fine. I get it. But that doesn’t mean they have to stay separate. And yeah, I have a good life now. Hell, I have a great life but-"

"There shouldn't be exceptions to that statement."

"Okay," Jim said. "I have a great life _ and _ you'd fit in it."

"I'm not the same person you knew." Anna looked away. "I can't just slip back into the same role I had in your life. I don’t want that."

"Neither do I," Jim said. "We’re never going to be the same because we were kids then. But you're sitting across from me now after years of thinking I’d never see you again and I know, _ I know_, we can have a relationship again. It’ll be different but it’s possible."

"I don't know how you can think that after just a week."

"And I don't know how you can't, after more than ten years," Jim said. He leaned forward, placing both arms on the table but she didn't look up. "I want to get to know you again. I know it's not like we can just pick up where we left off but... Why not just try to see if we can be friends again. Would it be so hard?"

She said nothing, keeping her gaze on the table.

"What happens after this mission, Anna? General Bishop said that he'd leave it up to your discretion as to what you'll do next."

"I'll ask you to drop us off at star base," Anna said slowly. "And then we'd hail an FI ship to take us back to Earth for debriefing. That will take the better part of a few months."

"The Enterprise can take you back. It'll only take a week."

"I think it would be best if we went our separate ways sooner. My team doesn't do well around Starfleet officers."

"And then?"

"There are other missions.”

"I meant, and then what happens to us?"

"I don't know."

"What do you want?"

"I don't know," Anna repeated. She pushed her plate away from her. "It's complicated."

Jim bit his lower lip and nodded. He was disappointed but not surprised. She had been hesitant in pursuing anything further with him throughout her time on the ship but Jim wasn't going to allow her to slink away from him once again. He wanted to keep in touch at the very least, but she had to want it too. She had to say the words too.

"Complicated is an understatement," he said. She looked up finally and he offered her a slight smile. "But listen, do you have room for dessert?"

Anna looked startled at the change of subject and shook her head.

"I think I ate enough for the both of us," she said, gesturing vaguely. "You'll have to roll me out of your quarters."

Jim chuckled. "Somehow I don't think that'll be necessary.”

He watched as she stifled a yawn then and he looked across the room at his chronometer. To his surprise, nearly three hours had passed. His meeting with Spock was in less than half an hour and he was sorely tempted to reschedule but he knew he shouldn't. It was just... Anna sitting there across from him seemed so natural. Despite the awkwardness of the past few minutes, no matter what concerns she had about them...

She fit there.

_ What could you have been, if we had joined Starfleet together? _

_ Who would you be right now? _

"Why don't you crash here tonight?" Jim asked suddenly. Anna looked confused. "You're tired and I'm pretty sure you're about ten minutes away from a food coma. I have to meet with Spock pretty soon and. Well. Why don't you just hang out here?"

Anna opened her mouth and then closed it, suddenly flustered and put her napkin on the table next to her plate.

"I think I can manage the five feet to my quarters," she said. She grinned though, cheeks flushed a faint pink. He resolved to tease her more, as much as he could get away with anyway.

_ As much as I can in less than four days. _

The thought sobered him a little. He had so much to do before her team was on the ship and he could only hope that with her weakening defenses, he could accomplish everything he wanted. He wouldn't quit until he did so, anyway.

Anna stood up.

"You're right though, I am tired," she said, starting to put empty dishes together. "Let me help you clear this away. They go in the replicator, right?"

Jim caught her hands and pulled her away from the table, putting one arm around her waist as she looked back at the table. Something in his chest tightened at how easily she followed him.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself. If you don't want to stay here then please get some rest."

"Fine," Anna said, stepping away. She flashed another smile at him and he thought that the expression seemed to come more frequently and easily now. "Jim, thanks for dinner. Really. I don't think I've-"

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked. "For breakfast? And then lunch? And dinner?"

She huffed, shaking her head. "Considering that I'm under certain restrictions, I think I'll be doing a lot of nothing tomorrow.”

"Bones said that you should stop by the medbay during Beta," Jim said. "Remember?"

"Right, so I can play lab assistant?" she said, making a face. "And maybe give the occasional blood sample or two?"

"I think he's just about done with taking his pound of flesh," Jim said. "And I also think he likes you. He tends to be fond of difficult people."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said dryly. "But don't hold it against me if I think that he just enjoys the extra observation time. I'm sure I present an interesting case study."

Jim straightened, growing serious. "Maybe Bones does find your case interesting but he's one of the good guys, Anna. You're not a paper waiting to happen and don't think for a second that he would ever divulge anything about your case, even to me, that wasn't pertinent to-"

"I know," Anna said. She crossed her arms and looked around his room one last time, her eyes suddenly melancholy and dark. "There’s just not a lot of people that can be trusted outside of FI.”

Jim said nothing for a moment. He hesitated and then reached out for her, pulling her close. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and pressed his cheek against hers, trying to align their bodies so that he could touch as much of her as possible. It was fairly platonic, as hugs went, and Jim knew that it seemed a little desperate but he didn't care. It was something he had wanted to do since the first time he saw her on his ship- to prove she was real and that he could _ feel _ her again, despite the anger and bitterness he had felt during those first few moments.

She stiffened, with her arms still crossed against her chest and for an awkward moment, they stood there. She seemed taken aback, unsure of how to react, and he could feel her short, startled breath against his ear.

"This is the part where you hug me back."

"Give me a moment," she said. Her voice was quiet but strained. "I'm getting used to the fact that you just manhandled me into a hug."

He drew back a little to look down at her face. "Manhandle?" Jim said. "If that's what you consider-"

Before he could finish, she pulled her arms out and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was a proper hug now and she seemed to melt against him, warm and soft and achingly _ familiar_. The geography of her body was a bit different now, but still. It was Anna.

_ Mine. _

"I don't remember you being so tall," she said. She rested her head against his shoulder and he closed his eyes, tightening his hold on her even more.

"Guess that means you're still a runt."

Jim knew she was smiling, even without looking.

###


	15. Revelations

"Jim, what the- "

McCoy's words died on his lips as Jim pushed past him and walked over the threshold of his private quarters, heading straight for the personal screen. McCoy had been ready to get to bed when Jim came to him. At first, McCoy thought his friend just wanted to chat and maybe have a drink but it was obvious by the shaken, angry look on his face that something else was on his mind.

He was confused. Jim had planned to have a quiet dinner with Anna. The fact that he was in civilian clothes seemed to underscore this but he also looked as if he had combed his fingers through his hair several times, a nervous tick that only manifested in private. His clothes were rumpled and in disarray like he had tugged at them repeatedly. McCoy knew Jim met with Spock earlier that night so something must have happened between his dinner and that meeting to set him off in this state of barely-contained agitation.

As the door closed behind them, McCoy followed Jim to the screen as he began typing in various commands.

"What's going on?" McCoy asked, worried but tired. He had had a long day and just wanted to unwind. Clearly his plans for a quiet, restful evening were not to be. "If you're going to barge in here-”

"Need you to watch something, Bones," Jim muttered, his fingers flying over the screen. McCoy recognized the first three digits of the captain's authorization code and he narrowed his eyes. Whatever it was, he was willing to bet his finest bottle of bourbon that it had to do with his most enigmatic patient.

_ The kid's obsessed. He's losing his objectivity. _

"Okay, what's-"

"We've gotta get her away, Bones, get her back," Jim continued to mutter as he stared at the screen. "They used me to get to her. They pushed her and they just kept on her until she... Until she..."

"Jim!" McCoy said. He grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging the other man away from the screen and shaking him a little. His bright blue eyes were large with surprise but underneath it all, McCoy could see the turmoil that he was experiencing. "Calm the hell down!"

McCoy gave him one last shake before releasing him. He rolled his eyes, stomped over to his drawer, pulled out a whiskey bottle and uncapped it. It was good in a pinch and not his favorite so it would do. He handed Jim the bottle without bothering to get a glass and Jim looked at him gratefully.

"Thanks, man," Jim said, and took a swig. He made a face and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, I just... I’m sorry."

"It's fine," McCoy said, taking the bottle back after he took a second mouthful. The last thing he needed was to get the captain drunk. "Now what did you want me to watch?"

Jim glanced at the screen and took a deep breath. "Remember when Scotty cracked Anna's personnel file?"

"Yeah, I saw her psych evals when you sent them," McCoy said. He grimaced. "You read my report on those bullshit 'psychological endurance training' or whatever they called it sessions. What about them?"

"Spock watched more of them," Jim said. He seemed calmer but there was something about the expression on his face that told McCoy the other man was still struggling. If they had been in a bar, Jim would have probably tried to get into a fight then - he looked like he was itching to hit something. "He found one session where they..."

He trailed off and shook his head.

"Where they what?"

"They kept tabs on me, Bones!" Jim said. "They were watching me to make sure I didn't get too close to finding her. And in one of the sessions they... They used me, they used something I did to get a reaction from her."

"What kind of reaction?" McCoy said. "What was it you did?"

Jim looked away then, back at the screen.

"That's not her," Jim said quietly. "I swear on everything I know, that's not her. You can tell when she's had enough, it's in her face but they still... And then it just wasn't her anymore."

Jim looked up at McCoy, his face twisted with sadness.

"You have to help me figure out how to get her out of there," Jim said. "She can't leave with the FI again. The longer she stays with them the worse off she'll be, right? There has to be some sort of medical reason, Bones. I spoke with Pike this morning and he said I can come at it from the torture standpoint, there are regs against that, but you gotta give me a physical reason to get her-"

"Jim, this is madness!" Bones said, crossing his arms. "I can't just manufacture a reason for you because you want to kidnap your friend- and yeah, that's what it sounds like you want to do. Their methods are extreme but it's not torture, not a textbook case anyway. Unless you've forgotten, the FI is still Starfleet and with the way they're connected, you'd bring down the wrath of some pretty powerful people on yourself and this ship. You need to calm down and just take a step back for a moment."

Jim looked at McCoy, stung. His eyes were dark and for a moment, McCoy thought Jim was going to lash out at him. 

Instead he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Okay, yeah. Okay," Jim said, opening his eyes. He looked more stable and more in control of himself then and McCoy patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Bones."

"It's fine," McCoy cut him off. He gestured to the screen.

"Now what was it that's got you all worked up?"

###

_ Session 45.3; Begin: _

The text next to the image in the video states that _ Demerin, Anna Claire _ is nineteen years, seven months old.

She is sitting in a plain gray room with what appears to be padded walls.

Her dark blue uniform is form-fitting and stiff, emphasizing the lean, straight lines of her body. She sits on a metal chair with her legs crossed and her hands set on her lap. Her shoulders are pulled back and her chin is held high. Under the harsh light, two and half silver pips gleam on her collar. There is a halo-shaped communicator on her chest.

She is perfectly still, with an expression of polite interest on her face. A close observer would note the hard-edged alertness of her gaze; her eyes make her seem older. 

"Congratulations are in order, Lieutenant Commander," the doctor says. It is a female this time. Her back is to the video and there is a metal table between her and Anna. "Your performance during the Dimitto simulation was impressive. It's still being discussed in certain circles."

A small smile flits across Anna's lips and is gone. 

Her eyes, however, grow even colder.

"Tell me. What made you decide not to leave the injured officer behind?" the doctor asks.

"To do otherwise would have been to lose a valuable member of my team and a resource," Anna says. "The lieutenant was not injured beyond help."

"The purpose of the simulation is to help commanding officers grow accustomed to making difficult decisions regarding their officers during critical points in their mission. So you decided to disregard the point of the simulation?"

"I understand the purpose of the simulation." Anna's voice sounds almost bored. "I made my decision based on field factors and I followed my orders to the letter. You don’t have the security clearance for additional background beyond that."

"Of course," the doctor replies lightly. "You were recently promoted for your decision at Ulysses Six, weren't you? And that was a similar scenario."

Anna stares at the doctor, saying nothing.

There is a faint sound as the doctor pulls up data from her PADD.

"So you decided not to leave the officer behind enemy lines," the doctor says after a short pause. "That seems to be consistent with you. No matter how injured or how damaged a team member is, you always return for them."

Anna tilts her head to the side, the polite expression never wavering.

"It's quite admirable really, especially for someone so young. You weren’t even in command originally, were you? I wonder then, what would it take for you to leave someone behind?"

There is a long, awkward silence as Anna continues to stare at the doctor. Eventually the doctor's head dips; she is the one who breaks contact first.

"It provides an interesting contrast to your history prior to the Federation Intelligence," the doctor says. "When you were recruited, your file indicates that you had close ties to a young man."

Silence.

"Your file is very thorough and comprehensive."

"I'm familiar with my file."

There is the sound of the doctor’s nails clicking on the screen. 

"James Kirk, isn't that right? Son of George Kirk, the deceased Starfleet hero. Tell me, Anna, how did James react when you informed him of your decision to join the Federation Intelligence?"

Silence.

"He must not have been very happy. According to our information, the only family he had planetside was his stepfather. And as you know, their relationship was rather strained, was it not?"

Silence.

"Was he upset? When you told him. Was he angry?"

Silence.

"You _ were _ close. It must have been very difficult for you to leave him behind."

The air seems to shift around Anna. The lines of her shoulders, her back, her jaw seem to tense. Her face remains placid but there is an edge there that wasn’t before. 

"Did he ask you to stay? Did he get angry? What was his reaction?"

"No one beyond my immediate family was informed," Anna says finally. Her voice is mellow and controlled. "But of course, you knew that."

"Oh no," the doctor says, with feigned surprise. "Well, I suppose that explains it then."

Silence.

"Aren't you even the least bit curious as to what happened to your old friend after you left him behind?"

Silence.

"James Kirk is in jail," the doctor says. Anna blinks. It is the only movement she makes. "Again. This time, he's serving a two day sentence for disorderly conduct and assault. A bar fight, in this day and age, and involving someone with his legacy and potential? Your friend injured another man so severely that he had to go to the hospital."

Silence.

The doctor fidgets before speaking again.

"He's been searching for you. James has hacked into several state directories and has even requested the help of Starfleet major, using his father's legacy. We halted that particular search though. It wouldn't do for Starfleet to find you and attempt to poach one of our brightest stars, now would it?"

Anna’s mouth curves up in what could be a smile but her gaze is laser focused on the doctor’s face.

"You left him behind," the doctor says. "James was your first casualty, wasn't he? You left him to his own devices and by all accounts, he's become nothing more than a petty criminal. Did a part of you suspect that this is what would happen or are your actions now your way of compensating?"

Silence.

"Never leave a team member behind, isn't that right?"

Silence.

"I wonder what James Kirk would say to that."

Silence.

The doctor sighs in exasperation. She looks down and misses the way Anna's face suddenly goes blank. The feigned politeness is gone. There is no hate, no anger; there is nothing left. Anna stares at the doctor with reptilian calculation, as if she is a thing and not a person. It is the way a snake would eye its prey just before it strikes. 

"You drove him to commit these crimes. I think you know that. If you hadn't left, he might have perhaps done something constructive with his life but your actions led-"

It happens so fast that Anna seems to move in a blur, though each move is precise and efficient. She stands up, kicks the legs of her metal chair backwards so that it flips over and grabs the two front legs with her hands.

She swings the chair over the table.

There is the sound of bones cracking- a soft, wet _ crunch _as the doctor falls down and away from the visual frame. A spray of blood hits the floor and the opposite wall but Anna shifts her weight so that she avoids being sullied. She releases the chair and it drops to the floor with a clatter.

The doctor is screaming in agony. Anna walks over to the other side of the table and looks down at the now unseen doctor. The doctor begins to scream louder, fear mingles with pain, at the sight of the young woman. Her blue uniform is still neat and clean and her hair perfectly in place. 

She could be standing anywhere at that moment, looking down at any mundane object.

“What did you hope to accomplish here?” Anna asks, and her voice sounds truly curious though her face is utterly expressionless. “What did you think would be the outcome?”

The doctor begins to blubber, apologizing through choked sobs and she holds up a hand in surrender. “Please, please don’t, please no…”

Anna studies her for a beat longer before she strikes out again, bringing her foot down hard over the body on the floor. There is another crunch and the doctor lets out a shrill shriek. Though her entire body is poised to act again, she suddenly raises her head and takes a step back. The door to the room behind her opens and she turns around gracefully, as if there isn't a hurt human being at her feet.

A tall man walks in wearing a gray medical coat over his dark blue uniform and a medkit pack on his hip. He takes in the scene before him and his lips tighten in a straight line. He is young and handsome, with wide dark eyes and dark hair, and his expression is of someone unsettled but not all that disturbed by the scene before him. 

He moves with a speed that is uncanny and fluid, pulling a sleek black tricorder out before him and kneeling down, slightly out of frame near the injured doctor.

Anna glances down as the doctor’s screams reduce to low groans.

"I broke her femur," Anna says clearly. "She has a temporal bone fracture on the left side and most of her facial bones have been shattered. Everything else is too minor to mention. I avoided inflicting any major injuries."

The man stands up and stares into Anna's face, as if searching for something. He looks as if he is struggling to contain his emotions but then his own expression smooths out. 

"You're late for the debriefing," he says. “Warshaw is expecting your report.” 

For the briefest second, there is a flash of uncertainty on her face. Her gaze darts down to the doctor and then back at the man. 

“I held back.” She pauses and again, she looks young and unsure. "Matt?"

The man looks away. “Warshaw's waiting.” 

Anna straightens and then heads for the door, leaving behind the doctor and his patient without looking back. The guards standing near the door nod to her as she walks by. They seem unaffected by the injury she has inflicted on the doctor.

The man sighs, places his hand over his communicator and kneels down away from the frame.

"This is Doctor ven Christie," his voice says. "I request immediate assistance in chamber five."

** _PSY Note1:_ **

_ ...Lt. Cmdr. Demerin has responded well to Deconstruction therapy and shown increased ability to control and maintain her emotional state. She will now be transitioned fully into the Reconditioning program. Though extreme, her reaction towards physical action has surpassed the normal timeframe of Alpha candidates - nearly twice as long as the average candidate’s threshold, which indicates a temperament well-suited to high... _

** _PSY Note2:_ **

_ Lt. Cmdr. Demerin has requested increased dosages of the following: [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted] and [redacted]. These are well within the high-average percentile for her rank and experience. _

_ Request has been approved. Her treatment will begin immediately. Her [redacted] [redacted] will need to be reprogrammed with [redacted] to accommodate these dosages for her enhanced physiological state. _

_ Addendum, Dr. ven Christie: Request additional monitoring and testing for heightened aggression and violence. _

_ (C.F. Medical: Physiological Record) _

###

"Doctor McCoy, have you tried the tissue graft on non-Terra humanoids yet?"

McCoy looked up from his patient board and stared at Anna. She stood across from him on the other side of the split glass panel and looked back at him with frank curiosity. On the lab counter before her was a PADD with an article on a graft method he had developed years ago.

It was the start of Gamma shift and while he was technically off duty, he decided to stay in the medbay lab. He was finishing up reports, signing off on his team's inventory requests and quietly observing his new charge as she tinkered around the lab. He wasn't concerned with security risks; every keystroke or computer request she made under his watch was recorded.

After Jim had come to him late the night prior, McCoy wasn't sure what to think about Anna Demerin anymore. Her personnel files had brought up mixed emotions. He was fascinated by the Federation Intelligence's psychological methods and if McCoy was honest with himself, they seemed to work. There were slips, including the session that had unsettled Jim, but through his researcher's eyes, McCoy could see that Anna was being trained to withstand psychological pressure. He was fairly certain they also used various drug therapies alongside the "treatments" - the redacted portions of her file were telling.

_ Request additional monitoring and testing for heightened aggression and violence. _

But the overwhelming emotion he felt as he read through the files and watched the sessions was disgust.

Anna was extraordinarily smart, inquisitive and thoughtful; a mixture he generally liked. Her early sessions with the FI had shown her to be particularly sensitive and empathetic but there was a disturbing quality to her, even as McCoy suspected the influence of the drugs she had taken was waning. She seemed to take for granted simple ethical considerations in medical research. Hell, most children probably had more boundaries than Anna did. She clearly had formal training and education in the medical sciences despite her lack of degree but he wondered exactly what her education entailed.

It was as if she had no limits regarding experimentation, including on herself.

McCoy didn't know what she was like as a commanding officer but she was probably well-regarded and respected, if Trig's behavior was anything to go on. It was just... McCoy felt that she seemed better suited for a career in the medical research field, her somewhat sketchy ethics notwithstanding.

Today she played his glorified lab assistant, putting away samples and labeling others under Chapel's watchful gaze but there was a sense of contentment radiating from her that he hadn't noticed before. Every now and then she'd ask a question or make an observation that threw McCoy off and drew him into a deep conversation that pulled him away from his reports. 

She certainly kept him on his toes.

"No," McCoy said. "I haven't had the opportunity to test it on other humanoid species."

Anna frowned.

"Surely you've had enough encounters at this point to test it out on non-Terra," she said. "The procedure you've developed is quite brilliant. Based on it, if you create an axonal pathway between the tissue graft and the basal ganglia, you could literally build in a cortical stimulator in the parietal lobe."

On the panel between them, she pulled up general species files on Antarans, Kradins, and Ekosians. 

"I think these would be the best specimens to begin with for testing," Anna said, gazing up at the images between them. "They have similar neural structures and their tissues aren't as dense as they are with other non-Terrans."

McCoy felt his jaw drop. It was plausible and part of him was fairly amazed at how quickly she had seen the potential for his research but...

_ For Christ's sake, she's basically saying I could control someone. _

_ Cortical stimulator, my ass. _

"That would require several trials," McCoy said, narrowing his eyes. "Not just to perfect but to figure out how any given alien neural structure will react to the graft. We've come across quite a few of those species over the past two years but I don't think any of them would take kindly to me asking if I could tinker around in their heads for shits and giggles."

Anna blinked. She looked back down at the PADD, her frown growing more pronounced.

"It's just an idea," she said simply, scrolling through with her finger. Something about the set of her mouth told McCoy she was disappointed with his reaction.

"It's a good idea," McCoy said slowly. "But I'm not sure I could even-"

"You could create a program in the holodeck," Anna said quickly, looking back up. "It would be easy to write."

She hesitated then but her eyes seemed to hold a hint of excitement. McCoy almost smiled. For a second, he got a flash of something so very _ Jim Kirk _ in that look. Part mischief, part glee.

_ And all trouble. _

"I could write it for you."

"I didn't know you command types knew how to write code," McCoy drawled. But he was definitely interested. It was something to think about, at the very least.

"Jim told me he changed the Kobayashi Maru program," Anna said. "And he’s definitely a command type.’"

"If by changed you mean hacked, then yes, you're right," McCoy said, allowing himself to smile at her this time. "I take it back. My apologies. You know, you have an interesting skill set, Anna. One minute we're talkin' brains and the next, you're offering to write me a holodeck program."

“I’m well-rounded," she said seriously. "Anyway. It's something for you to consider."

_ Oh hell. Why not? _

Before he could say anything further, he caught a flash of gold behind Anna.

Jim walked into the room but he had stopped to talk to Doctor M'Benga halfway towards the lab. He was laughing and smiling at the other man but it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. He glanced at McCoy and McCoy acknowledged his presence with a nod.

Jim's gaze drifted to Anna, but she didn't notice his entrance. She continued to click through the PADD, reading quietly.

_ I'm willing to bet a week ago Anna would have known when someone walked through those doors. _

_ Maybe even before they actually did. _

"Hypothetically speaking, what would you need to know in order to write the program?" McCoy said, turning to Anna again. "What would something like that take?"

Anna looked surprised but pleased as she began to rattle off what might as well have been ancient Latin to his ears. It made McCoy's head hurt.

As she spoke, McCoy noticed that Jim finally walked away from M'Benga and was making his way towards them, his eyes bright and happy. It was a complete change from his demeanor the night before.

_ Nothing a good night's sleep and a couple of shots of whiskey can't fix. _

But as he got closer, McCoy could see the shadows under his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders. Still, Jim seemed to regain a bounce in his step as he drew near.

"...think it will be possible to use the replicator to recreate certain organ structures and you could easily grow tissue in the lab and program the holodeck sims to recognize the..." Anna trailed off and looked at McCoy sharply. "Should I transcribe this? I could work on it tomorrow."

McCoy nodded, half embarrassed. He was a doctor, not a damn engineer but he felt as if he should maybe re-read a couple of his old study manuals from the Academy.

"That's probably best," McCoy said. "I'm not as _ well-rounded _ as you are when it comes to these things."

Anna lips quirked in an almost smile and she opened her mouth to respond when Jim came up behind her and put his hand on her back. Her head jerked up and she looked at Jim with wide, surprised eyes. Anna’s hold on the PADD tightened so her fingertips went white and for a second, McCoy was afraid she would strike out as a reflex reaction. But almost instantly, she relaxed, though there was a hint of guilt on her face.

_ That was close. _

"Hey Bones," Jim said cheerfully. He stood next to Anna and his smile grew softer. "Anna."

Anna nodded at him and looked back down at the PADD.

"What's going on?" Jim asked. "It sounded like you were talking about making a couple of changes to the holodeck program."

"Doctor McCoy would like to test out an extension of a medical procedure he developed a few years back," Anna said, glancing at McCoy. "It requires subjects that aren't readily available to him. I was telling him how he could use the holodeck to test it out."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "Oh, is that so?"

"With your permission, I'd like to try it out," McCoy said. Jim stared at him. "It's just an idea."

Anna ducked her head, lips quirked in a small smile. Jim looked confused for a moment before shrugging.

"Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem," Jim said. "It'd be an interesting use of the holodeck, in any case. So who's going to write this program?"

"I was planning to give Doctor McCoy a list of requirements he'll need to begin," she said. "And I can also include the foundational code. I should be able to hammer it out by tomorrow. You can take it up to Lieutenant Commander Scott for him to complete and implement."

"Why don't you just write it?" Jim asked. "It'll only take you a few days to create a full program, right?"

Anna stiffened.

"After we reach star base Gamma and my team, I'll have no time. And when we complete our mission, Trig and I will have to focus on giving our reports."

Jim's face hardened and he looked at McCoy as if to prove a point. He shook his head slightly in response.

McCoy knew about Jim's intentions to keep Anna from returning to the Federation Intelligence. He didn't care what Jim called it, McCoy firmly stood by his first reaction - it would be considered kidnapping. Anna had given no indication that she was unhappy where she was and frankly, he didn't think Jim could convince her otherwise. But Jim Kirk was the type to attempt the impossible and succeed.

"Speaking of Scotty," McCoy said, quickly changing the subject. "Jim, have you heard how Trig is doing over in Engineering? He get in trouble yet?"

"I hope he's not causing Lieutenant Commander Scott any problems," Anna said, turning to Jim.

"Aside from scaring the pants off Scotty last night when he accidentally wandered in?" Jim replied. "Nah. Although you do understand that his concern was valid after your reaction to Gaila."

"Trig's not on the same regimen as I am," Anna said quickly. "But I'm sorry if he frightened the Lieutenant Commander."

"To be honest, it sounds like Scotty's having a blast with your boy," Jim said. "And I think Gaila's a little bit _ too _happy to have Trig around. Probably because he doesn't look like a physics nerd. He's got that pretty blond Nordic thing going on."

"Call Trig pretty to his face and you'll be missing yours soon afterwards," Anna said, with a smirk. "Tell Gaila to watch out for him though, Trig's quite the charmer."

"Duly noted," Jim said. "Although she’s not exactly looking to protect her virtue."

"You know, Doctor McCoy mentioned that Gaila had a preference for blondes," Anna said, tilting her head to the side. She winked at McCoy who bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He had indulged in a verbal walk down memory lane with Anna earlier, telling her a few choice tales from his Academy days and some from the recent past. "Especially of the blue-eyed, cocky charmer variety."

Jim looked at McCoy and then Anna with wide eyes and brought one hand up to chest, pantomiming a shot to the heart.

"Whatever Bones told you about me is an exaggeration, if not an outright lie_, _ " Jim said. He reached up and playfully pulled on Anna's ponytail. "The man likes to tell tales, that's all. And actually, Gaila's preference is for blonde men. I happen to know that she prefers the company of dark-haired women. "

"Well, I can’t argue with preferring tall, dark and handsome," Anna said, smiling. For a second, Jim's grin faltered at her off-hand remark and that was pretty much all it took to solidify what McCoy had suspected all along.

There was more to their childhood friendship and it was likely that it had been one-sided.

_ Great. Just another complication in an already complicated situation. _

"So I'm guessing the two of you are off to dinner then?" McCoy asked.

Jim smiled again but it was definitely more subdued.

"Yeah, I managed to get Chef to make the highest calorie dinner possible," Jim said. "Hope you’re hungry!"

Anna lifted her PADD in a gesture. "I can wait a few hours. I’m in the middle of reading about one of Doctor McCoy’s surgeries. You don't have to eat with me."

"Sure I do," Jim said lightly. To McCoy's surprise, he reached up and briefly pressed his hand against her cheek. What was even more of a surprise was that Anna didn't flinch or move away. "And you're still cold. Why didn't you wear a sweater?"

"Because that wouldn't help much and I got tired of the black," Anna said. She wore only a thin gray t-shirt with her trousers today. She looked down at the PADD with a sigh before turning it off. "I can hang out in my quarters if you-"

"Bones, isn't there something you can do about her-"

"Really, I'm okay, I just-"

"...poor circulation. She's freezing-"

"Doctor McCoy can't do a damn thing about it," Anna snapped. There was a flash of something more than irritation in her eyes and McCoy started back, shocked at her vehemence and feeling a little more than nervous. There was something about the taut energy of her body that signaled an intent towards action.

Then she relaxed and took in a deep breath. For her part, Anna seemed taken aback by her own response.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, looking at both men with a startled expression. "I didn't mean to say that."

_ You weren't expecting that, were you? _McCoy thought. _ How hard is it for you to keep your outbursts in check now? _

"It's okay," Jim said, throwing McCoy another significant look. He pulled his hand back slowly. "Hey, it's not a problem, right? Just let us know when things get to be uncomfortable for you."

"No, I just..." Anna said. She hesitated and then sighed. "What could help is motion. I know you'd prefer it if I stay stationary but it wouldn't hurt me to just move. "

"No ropes courses," Jim said firmly. Anna's shoulders slumped. "But we do have other options."

"The gym isn't a safe place for her to be," McCoy said, shaking his head. He turned to Jim, feeling the weight of Anna's gaze on him. He ignored her. "Unless you order those officers to stay away from the gym, which might be difficult considering they all have different recreation schedules. I think that it's safer to just keep to the assigned areas."

"I have an idea," Jim said. He grinned, looking for all the world like an excited child. "And you'll love it, Anna, I know you will."

“Seriously, Jim…” McCoy warned. 

"It'll be safe, Bones, I swear," Jim said and McCoy sighed, knowing he wouldn't win, not when Jim could barely contain himself. McCoy knew he would do his best to keep her safe but he was afraid that Anna would be able to persuade him into bending the rules and McCoy would not tolerate that.

"I mean it, you can't let her go beyond the boundaries we set."

"I'll block off the corridors and send an all ship-wide communication to keep clear," Jim said. He turned to Anna. "Are you game?"

Anna hesitated slightly before nodding. "As long as I get to do something."

"And by _ something _ you'd better mean the least exertion possible," McCoy said sternly. He glared at Jim, not liking the way his hand had been forced again, before turning to Anna. "Your heart is still under stress. Any cardiac activity past a certain point and I'll have you back in here so fast it'll make your goddamn head spin, you got that?"

"Completely," Anna said. She smiled though her eyes were serious and McCoy felt a little relieved. It seemed that she knew well enough to take him at his word.

"Alright then, it's a plan. Bones, we'll be going," Jim said. He tugged at Anna's arm, pulling her away from the counter. "I forgot to mention. Anna, you got a request for a video comms link from General Bishop earlier."

"Oh?" she said, seeming surprised. "Did he say when?"

Jim shook his head. "He said whenever you were free," Jim said. "Look, I'll walk you back to your room and you can take it from there. He wanted Trig around too so just give Scotty a call and he'll send him down. I'll give you an hour before I come get you for dinner. Will that work?"

Anna nodded. "Yes, an hour is fine," she said. She frowned. "Until you come get me for dinner? You're right next door."

"We're not having dinner in my room," Jim said. He smiled and tugged her further away from McCoy and the lab. "It's a surprise. Trust me."

Anna looked uncertain as she nodded goodbye to McCoy and let Jim take her away from the medbay. As McCoy watched the doors behind them close, he shook his head. He didn't know how Jim would be able to let her go but knew he was going to have to anyway. 

McCoy just couldn't see it ending any other way.

_Congratulations Jim, you just found your first no-win scenario._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter was giving me a LOT of grief. The original was almost 10k words total and I chopped the last third because it was holding me up for days and days. Hopefully, no one will be able to tell something's missing...


	16. A Threat. A Mistake.

McCoy spotted the blonde-haired man the moment he walked into Ten-Forward and groaned inside. It seemed that no matter where he went, McCoy would not be rid of the Federation Intelligence. Not that he minded them so much but he would have preferred to not have to think about them during his off time. 

In his opinion, they were too complicated, too slippery, for McCoy to have any pleasure in unraveling their mysteries when he was off the clock.

_ And he's sitting in my seat, dammit! _

McCoy debated sitting somewhere else for a moment before making his way down to his usual spot at the bar. Trig's hair was so light that even in the dim light it shone and McCoy could see other patrons taking surreptitious glances at the FI officer. For his part, Trig seemed oblivious to the attention. He sat alone, staring down at the bronze liquid in the glass before him.

He didn't look up when McCoy sat next to him.

"What's your vice tonight, doc?" the bartender asked him with a smile. His large, round eyes slowly changed from purple to blue as he stood waiting. McCoy glanced at Trig and frowned.

"Just the usual, please," McCoy said. The bartender's movements were quick and smooth as he prepared McCoy's poison of choice: bourbon with one ice cube into a glass and set it before him. "And uh, another one for this guy over here. Whatever he's having."

At that, Trig looked up at McCoy with what seemed to be amusement. The bartender's smile grew wider, displaying sharp, pointed teeth.

"What?" McCoy asked roughly. It was as if the other two shared an inside joke and he didn't much like it.

"I think I might have to cut off your friend here," the bartender said. "That's his second drink this evening."

McCoy thought about it for a moment. Something straight up, he thought, but he couldn't detect a strong smell which was a good sign. Trig was tall and though slender, was clearly a solid force to be reckoned with. He had fewer physical issues than Anna and McCoy didn't doubt that the other man could hold his drink. With his unnaturally efficient metabolism, alcohol shouldn't have been a problem for him at all.

"I think he'll be okay," McCoy said, raising an eyebrow. "One more can't hurt."

Trig smiled as the bartender set another glass in front of him and to McCoy's surprise, he drank the contents of his current drink in only a few gulps, throwing back his head as he did so.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, man!" McCoy said, nearly standing up again, but Trig placed the empty glass on the counter and flashed him a grin.

Trig held up the full glass and brought it up to one of the few light sources in the room behind the counter. "Funny. I thought by now you’d have a better sense for us."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" McCoy asked, reaching out for his own drink.

Trig's face was more open, more _ friendly _ than Anna's but McCoy knew that appearances were often deceiving. Even humanoid aliens were only just barely recognizable on the inside, despite having two eyes, one nose, two ears...

_ Same and not the same. _

Anna was the leader but Trig was her first officer. If they had a relationship similar to Jim and Spock's own then Trig was a dangerous man. Despite his easy-going demeanor, McCoy didn't think Trig was a man to cross; after all, he was a FI officer whose CO was ill and with a Starfleet captain at that moment. 

"This is apple juice, Doctor McCoy," Trig said, pushing the glass towards McCoy. "What can I say? I have a sweet tooth. You really think I'd get drunk on a Starfleet vessel? Alone?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink.

"Can you even get hammered?" he asked.

Trig beamed at him. He suddenly seemed like a very young boy and McCoy could almost imagine the child he had been. It made him wonder again about who Anna and Trig might have become, if the FI hadn't stepped in.

"Now that's the right question," Trig said. He took a small drink of his juice. "And I can but it will take a lot more than a few drinks to do that. A lot more."

"Is that a natural side effect of-"

"You ask the right questions, but unfortunately the answers aren't mine to give," Trig said. There was no edge in his tone; it was just a simple fact to be stated. "Besides, don't you have enough information?"

Trig held up his other hand, showing McCoy the biomonitor around his wrist. McCoy snorted and took another swig.

"Not nearly enough, no," he said. "That just tells me you're alive and not in pain. Doesn't tell me why there's shit in your brains that's different colors or what it does to you."

Trig lifted his apple juice and tilted it McCoy's way in a half-hearted toast. "True."

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" McCoy asked. "I heard Scotty's got you doing his dirty work for him now."

"It's noble work, doctor and don't you forget it," Trig said, his smile becoming a bit serious. "The Lieutenant Commander is a brilliant man and he keeps this fine ship running smoothly. It's no wonder he likes to stay in Engineering. As much as I enjoy working with him though, I'll admit to needing a change of scenery."

McCoy narrowed his eyes and studied Trig, _ really _looked at him then with an assessing gaze. Though he didn't doubt Trig was telling the truth, there was more he wasn't saying.

_ The kid's tired, just like she is. _

_ They're slowing down like toys running out of batteries. _

Trig's handsome features were drawn and so pale he seemed nearly gray. Beyond that, his blue eyes were downcast, the skin underneath seeming bruised. McCoy wasn't sure if he was physically tired, emotionally tired or both.

"You finish that drink and you're going back to your quarters, understood?" McCoy said. Trig looked at him in surprise and smiled.

"Actually, Scotty said that I could..."

"Frankly I don't give a shit what he told you you could do. You're not up for any more physical exertion and this is the second time today I've had to tell someone to ease up. I swear, between you and-"

"Don't worry, doctor. Straight to my quarters it is," Trig said easily. He took a long sip of his juice and shrugged. "We always comply with doctors’ orders."

"Is that a fact?" McCoy grumbled, taking a sip of his drink. “Y’all will have to teach this crew a few things then.”

"She respects you," Trig said. "We all respect our doctors, I guess. We don't exactly scare easily but our team doc is not someone we want to piss off."

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Can't wait to meet the guy, if that's the case. We could swap scare tactics."

Trig laughed. "I'm sure he'd like that. Ven's always looking for new ways to keep us in line. Especially Anna. She's the hardest for him to handle. She's always pushing him to do more for us, you know? Push boundaries. I don't think he can help himself. He's too-"

Trig shut his mouth with such force that McCoy could almost imagine a door closing inside the man's head. It was clear that Trig hadn't meant to let that last part slip and it was also clear the man was probably exhausted to the point of weakening his mental defenses.

_ He hides it well though, _ McCoy thought.

Trig looked down at his juice again and McCoy decided to change the subject.

"Ven?" McCoy asked. "Your team doctor's name is Ven?"

"Short for Venom," Trig said, looking up again. His smile returned but it was dimmed slightly, more cautious.

"I don't think I want to know," McCoy muttered. He lifted his glass to his lips again. "Speaking of Anna, she mentioned that you-"

"I've seen the way Captain Kirk looks at her and I know they have a history together," Trig said lightly. "But you do realize that if he hurts her in any way, I'll have to hurt him back."

McCoy almost choked on his drink and Trig had to hit him lightly on the back before McCoy could respond.

"What?!" McCoy said when he could get his breath back. 

Trig could have been talking about the weather; there was no hesitation, no stress in his voice at all. McCoy sputtered, "What the hell-"

"Scotty told me about the captain and his reputation," Trig said calmly, taking another sip of his juice. His expression was friendly enough but McCoy could see the edge there. "We're trained to be subtle and I have a long memory. Just thought you should know."

McCoy felt a wave of fear and rage rise inside of him and he glared at Trig.

"You're absolute shit at being covert, aren't you?" McCoy said, struggling to keep his voice down. "You're threatening the captain of this ship to his goddamn CMO. You don't think I'd do something with that? You even think about laying one finger on Jim, you goddamn albino, and I'll-"

Trig looked at him, unruffled. "Can't be much worse than what you'd probably want to do to her if she hurts him, right? The only difference being, she's got no one else but me right now. Meanwhile _ Jim _ has an entire ship of people."

That brought McCoy up short. It hadn't been an idle threat but he took a mental step back. In his own sick way, Trig was protecting Anna much like an older brother would. McCoy's old fashioned Southern sensibilities almost approved of it but his loyalty made him want to take a swing at Trig.

"I think she can handle herself," McCoy said, narrowing his eyes. "They're both adults."

"Yes," Trig said. "But she has enough to deal with. Distractions would very bad right now. If he takes advantage of that, we'll know."

McCoy rubbed his eyes tiredly.

_ I can't believe I'm having _ _this conversation with this man about Jim. _

"He won't," McCoy said finally. "I'm more worried about him than I am about her and believe me, I never thought I'd say that. And so what if you've seen the way he looks at her? Because I've seen the way she _ doesn't _ look at him. Catch my drift?"

"You're not looking hard enough."

"No?" McCoy said. "Well tell me something, Trig. Why are you so concerned about who's looking at who?"

Trig seemed genuinely surprised at the question. "Anna is my friend. I have every right to be concerned, if he's anything like Scotty and Gaila described."

"Now hold on. Jim's chased a few skirts in his day, I can admit that, but Scotty's way out of line. Jim's not a child anymore and he's a damn fine captain. He’s kept his nose clean for a long time and if you're worried about Anna's virtue, then-"

"None of us can make much claim to virtue,” Trig cut him off with a laugh. He stared at McCoy for a moment, tilting his head to the side before snorting. “You think I'm a jealous lover or something, don't you? Give us some credit, doctor. I just want to make sure everyone who matters knows Anna has back up. Because she does."

Trig took a sip of his juice and McCoy said nothing at the slight tremble in the other man’s hand when he set down his glass again. After a short silence, Trig stood up, giving the bartender a nod goodbye. McCoy noticed a few of the more hopeful faces frown when he did so.

"I'm off to my quarters," Trig said, clapping McCoy on his shoulder. "Thanks for the company, sir.”

"Remember what I said." McCoy pointed his finger at the other man. "Anything happens to Jim and I'm coming after you with something incurable, disfiguring and painful."

Trig held up his hands and widened his eyes.

"Understood, as long as you remember what I said," he said, lowering his hands. He paused for a moment, hesitating, and then shrugged. "Besides, I'm not really the one the captain has to worry about."

"What do you mean?" McCoy asked, frowning.

Trig shook his head and smiled. It seemed to McCoy that there was something a bit strange about the expression.

"The captain’s not the only one who’s been looking at Anna.” 

Before McCoy could press him further, Trig turned around and walked away.

###

"What do you see when you look up there?"

Jim looked at Anna who lay beside him on the blanket. They finished dinner just as the sun made its way down past the horizon and were now lying on their backs, staring up at the night sky. Several lanterns surrounded them on the ground and hung in the trees, and the light from the moon reflected on the surface of a dark lake some distance away. Jim rested on his arms, with his hands behind his head and Anna lay with a rolled up towel underneath her neck.

True to his word, Jim had avoided the gym and other main areas of his ship for their dinner plans - everywhere except for the holodeck. 

It had taken only a few commands to transform the space into a wide, peaceful expanse of trees surrounding water. The space had allowed for a leisurely, long walk - enough activity to satisfy Anna without annoying McCoy. 

Though the air in the holodeck remained on the balmy side of comfortable, Anna wore a heavy sweater for comfort. The song of crickets filled the air and every now and then, Jim could hear a frog croak. He felt sleepy and full and at peace with the world.

On the edge of his consciousness was the knowledge that everything around them was just an illusion and would soon come to an end. The threat of a biological weapon loomed over the UFP and the Federation Intelligence lay crouched in the shadows like a predator waiting to attack. In the middle of it all was Jim and the Enterprise.

_ And Anna. _

But that was all background noise to him. At that moment, nothing else existed nor mattered.

"Stars."

Jim grinned. "You really are a genius, aren't you?" he said. "You know what I mean."

Anna poked him in the side and Jim arched away, laughing.

"What? I see stars," she said, settling back down. "What do you want me to say?"

Jim shifted over to his side and propped his head on one arm. Anna turned her head to look at him and her eyes seemed to reflect the lights around them.

"What happened to all the great adventures you were going to have, zipping around in space?"

"Oh, you mean on my magical ship with wings?" Anna said. Jim laughed. "Come on, I was a kid. I was making stuff up. The stars were just something nice to look at on a clear night."

"But you loved them."

"Yes."

"Still?"

"They're beautiful from a distance. I enjoy looking at them," Anna said. "What do you see?"

Jim glanced back at the sky. "My life, I guess," he said. "Written out there in every place I visit. It’s a map of everything I want to do, everywhere I want to go. Who I want to be."

He rolled back and placed his hands on his stomach.

"It _ feels _ right. Me being up here. I used to hate the black, remember? Hated what it represented, what it took from me. I gave it that power though. It doesn't care about me, or you, or anyone else. It's just space - this awesome, grand, indifferent thing. But I get to travel through it and I get to explore places that no one's ever seen before. There's so much out there I haven't done yet, things I haven't discovered yet... And I can’t wait to get to it."

"You sound like a man in love."

Jim smiled again, turning his head.

"Guess I am," he said. "So you didn't answer my question. What do you see when you look up there?"

"Nothing as grand," Anna said, after a short pause. “The stars are still pretty though. I just don't have a lot of time these days to simply look up."

"Whoa, that's not fair, Anna," Jim said. "I wax poetic and you tell me they're pretty?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you expect poetry?"

"Anna."

"Fine," Anna said, with a sigh. "If I really had to think about it? I see more places where petty dramas can be played out. We’re all just driven by the same impulses no matter how enlightened we think we are. Good or bad, it's out there on a cosmic scale. So I'd rather not think too deeply about the night sky and just take it for what it is - a nice view."

Jim sat up and looked down at her, frowning. She met his gaze evenly.

"Hey, you asked," she said. "You were always meant to be up here, doing great things, having a grand adventure. It called to you and now here you are."

"It called you to once, too."

She propped herself up on her elbows and tilted her head to the side. "It's not for me," she said. "I'd rather be Earthside looking up than up here looking down."

"Must get lonely," Jim said softly. "Traveling through space but not really wanting to be here. Being displaced like that."

"Displaced? Nah," she dismissed. "It's not as melodramatic as you make it sound, anyway."

"But still lonely."

"You want me to admit it? It can get lonely but I have my team. As long as I have them with me, as long as I have a mission to focus on, I don't think about it too much."

A melancholy mood seemed to fall over her and she sat up and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, almost protectively. Her face remained impassive though.

He allowed her space, sitting a foot or two away from her.

"You ever think about doing something else?" he asked, his voice still gentle. "Maybe just going in another direction, something that will give you a little more stability. I can help you figure things out. All you have to do is ask."

She was silent, giving nothing away as she stared at the water.

"Are you happy?" Jim asked. "Or are you only doing what you do because-"

"There's nothing else I want to do," she said stiffly. Jim could see her physically withdrawing from him again, lowering her head so that her body formed a small, tight ball.

"Alright," Jim said.

He was quiet for a moment as they both watched the moonlit water.

"So, brunettes, huh?" Jim said after a long pause.

Anna raised her head to look at him with a confused expression and she uncurled slightly.

"What?"

"In the lab earlier," Jim went on. "You mentioned brunettes. Preferring them or something."

"I wasn't serious," Anna said, giving him an odd look. She crossed her legs in front of her and Jim breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Not really."

"Not really? Come on, Anna. Tall, dark and handsome? Sounds like our good ol’ Doctor McCoy, if you ask me."

She rolled her eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said. "Jim, are you seriously trying to pawn the doc off on me?"

"What?" Jim leaned over to hit her lightly on the arm. She smiled slightly and swatted back at him. "Oh, come on. He's not a bad looking guy. Had enough run-ins with alien princesses trying to steal him away to know that much."

Anna laughed and shook her head, looking over at him. The air between them lightened and Jim leaned in closer.

"He’s very handsome," she said. "But I think he’s still licking his wounds from his last relationship."

Jim looked at her in surprise.

"He told you about his divorce?"

Anna looked at him oddly before shaking her head again.

"No," she said. She looked down and pulled at random blades of grass. "He didn't say anything. I can just tell. He's still raw. Whoever he was with must have done a number on him."

"I'm sure Bones will be ecstatic to know he's that transparent," Jim said. He leaned closer to her so that their sides were pressed together. "But really, how could you tell?"

"He's not transparent," Anna said quietly. "Takes one to know one.”

Jim licked his lips and swallowed, feeling his stomach churn. He had started this conversation and he would see it through, even though he really didn't want to hear her talk about anyone else. It was hypocritical of him but it burned to hear her even refer to someone else.

It _ hurt_.

"Who was he?" Jim asked. His voice sounded hoarse.

She tensed slightly and then she let out a sharp laugh.

"A mistake," she said, sounding bitter and tired and sad all at once. "I’m allowed one or two, right?"

"Sure," Jim said. "I've made my share of mistakes. Although you know what they say: better to have loved and lost than to-"

"No.” Anna’s voice was almost stern, even though her expression was distant, thoughtful. "Better to have never bothered.”

"That bad, huh?"

"Yup."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not long enough," Anna said. "I don't think it'll ever be long enough."

Her body seemed taut, discomfort radiating from her like heat from a fire. Something seemed to twist inside of him when he looked at her face again. She looked miserable but also angry, her mouth pressed together in an unforgiving line. 

"Tell me his name and coordinates and I'll set a course, Anna," Jim said and she laughed, surprised, sounding a bit lighter than before. “He’ll never know what hit ‘im.”

"Always the hero," she said. The corners of her mouth remained tilted up. "You know, I think it might actually make me feel better."

Jim swayed towards her and winked. 

"Just say the word, sweetheart, and it's done.” 

"I take care of my own messes," she said, shaking her head. "Anyway, what about you? Doctor McCoy shared some interesting stories, you know."

Jim let out an exaggerated sigh and groaned. "Right. I’ll have to thank him for that. I ran around a bit. Quite a bit actually. Can't say I'm proud of it all but I'm not ashamed of it either."

"Did you ever take any of them seriously? Have you ever had your..." Anna trailed off, making a vague gesture with her hand. “You know.”

"What? My heart broken?" Jim said. He was surprised at how calm he sounded. "Sure. Just once. It was pretty bad."

"It only takes once," Anna said. "How’d it happen? How’d you get over it?"

He forced himself to keep his gaze focused on her face, not letting himself look away.

"You know, funny thing about that," he said. "I don't think I ever did. Not really, now that I think about it."

Anna looked at him in silence for a long time and then nodded.

“Sometimes that’s a good thing, not moving on.” Her voice sounded pensive, her words slow and thoughtful. “There’s always a lesson to be learned in every situation. The pain can serve as a reminder, another way to learn how to protect yourself.” 

“That’s… Shockingly bleak, Anna,” Jim said, surprised despite himself. “You don’t think moving on is a good thing? Isn’t that the point of heartbreak? Moving on and growing from it… Being glad you had the chance to love and be loved?”

“That’s bullshit.” Anna looked away and shook her head again. “All it means, all the heartbreak means, is that you let someone get close to you and in the end they left you behind anyway. Or maybe they were after something else and just used you as a means to an end. You were lied to. In the end, you're just left behind, wondering how something good could turn out so horribly."

_Like you left me behind. _

But she wasn't talking about him, she was talking about herself. There was no victory in the knowledge that she had been hurt just as she had hurt him. Jim never wanted that for Anna but she just seemed so absolutely ignorant of the damage she had caused when she left, it was almost baffling. It might have been worse this way, he thought, because she didn't know how badly she had hurt him, that she was still breaking his heart.

Either that or she thought what she had done didn't matter.

He couldn't let her go on without letting her know. He couldn't let the wound he'd been carrying, the one she'd inflicted, continue to fester.

_ You can take care of your messes, Anna. I believe that. But you need to see exactly what you did first. _

_ And then we can move on. _

Jim took a deep breath before asking quietly, "Was I not enough for you to stay?"

Anna recoiled, eyes wide with surprise, and he held her gaze steadily.

"I've spent years wondering why you left me the way you did. I spent years wondering why even you left me at all."

"I don’t think now is a good time to have this conversation."

"You were all I had," he went on. "For so long, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was so sick with fear, with worry that something bad happened to you because I _ knew _ you loved me. I _ knew _ you cared about me. I just couldn't believe you would leave me purposely. But then I realized that's exactly what you did."

She moved away from him completely and Jim felt the loss of her warmth keenly but he made no move to pull her back.

"I tried to hate you," he said quietly. "I did everything you didn't want me to do when I realized you left me behind. I guess a part of me hoped you'd see it somehow and come back. I just need to know why."

"What exactly do you want me to say here, Jim?" Anna said. She looked scared; underneath the feigned annoyance, even as her eyes narrowed, Anna looked scared.

"It's not about what I want you to say," he said. "I just want the truth."

In one graceful move, Anna stood up and Jim was quick to get to his feet. Though it didn't seem as if she were going to run away, he wouldn't have put it past her. He reached out without touching her, keeping his palms up in surrender. She was afraid, there was no question about it. 

Jim could understand. At that moment, there was nothing she could hide behind. No regulations, no drugs, no one else to look to for instructions. Anna was alone and he was forcing her to finally answer for her actions.

_ All that responsibility on her shoulders and she's afraid of this? _

"Why can't you just accept that what happened is done?" Anna snapped, her eyes dark. "Jim, you said it yourself - you're happy here. This is where you're meant to be. Do you honestly think that you would have gotten here if I'd been around?"

"I don't know," he said simply, looking down into her face. "Maybe not. But I'm not asking you to tell me what my life could have been. I'm asking you to tell me why you left."

"Why does it matter so much to you? Do you want me to say I made a mistake? Because I didn't. I joined the Federation Intelligence knowing exactly what I was getting into and I would make the same choice if I had to do it again."

"And hurt me again, the same way you did before and just sneak away like a coward?"

"That's not... That's not what I meant to do. I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't..." She trailed off and looked away.

"But you did," Jim said. "Did you even consider what it would do to me?"

"Yes." Anna swallowed. "Yeah."

"And you went ahead and did it anyway? You knew it would kill me and you left anyway."

"Stop, Jim, you're fine! My leaving clearly didn't kill you. We were so young and... I knew it wouldn’t matter, in the end."

She lifted her chin and stood up straight, pulling her shoulders back in an imitation of defiance but she looked to the side nervously, as if she was preparing to leave, looking for ways to escape. Jim moved closer to her and touched her arm, gently pushing her focus back on him.

"Is that what you tell yourself now? That I eventually got over it, does that make it okay? Because from where I'm standing, it sounds like an excuse and not a reason," Jim said. "All I want to know is why. I spent years wondering why, what I did, and good or bad, I think I deserve at least that."

"Jimmy," Anna sighed. 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly, before pressing her hands against his chest, looking up at him with an open expression. He reached up and ran his thumb across her smooth cheek, telling her in a touch that she could go on, that he was listening and that everything would be okay if she just talked to him. Jim could feel her cold hands through his shirt and he was sure she could feel the sudden acceleration of his heart, the resulting warmth that it caused...

Before she pushed him away.

There wasn't much force in the action but he stepped back anyway, dropping his arms to his side. Disappointment weighed heavily on him, making it hard to take anything more than a shallow breath.

"I don't have answers for you," she said. "None that you'll understand. I was young and I made a choice. Anything I say would just be a disappointment. If it makes it easier for you then hate me, I deserve that. I don't even know why you..."

"Why I what?" he asked. His voice sounded far away, even to him. Distant. As if it were separate from him.

"Why you care so much." She took a step away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "You should stay mad. It's easier that way."

"You keep saying that, I might start buying it," Jim said bitterly. In the back of his mind, he worried that she was cold again even as he felt bitterness and grief run through him. He still worried about her, still cared despite everything. 

Anna nodded, as if she had expected his response. She called out to the computer for the door and it appeared a few meters behind her. With one last look at Jim, Anna turned around and made her way towards the exit.

"Leaving me behind again?" Jim called out. "Guess I should have expected it, right? Seems to be a pattern with you."

He felt both shame and joy when the lines of her shoulders tensed. She continued walking away from him though, through the doors - and then she was gone.

"Computer, end program," Jim called out.

The world around him faded and then disappeared.

Jim stood alone in the dark room.

###


End file.
